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AST— IX

SCIEITCE FICTION

B««. U. S. Pat OB.

CONTENTS

^\UGUST, 194g VOL. XLI, NO. 6

NOVELETTE

TIME TRAP, 6// Chailru. Harnm* 7

SHORT STORIES

f^MAEI.ER THAN POU TIIIAK. hn Krnurth Gm» . 82

I>A\VN. OP hn .1. JS<‘riri')ii i'hnttdler . . 46

THE MOKSTEK, h’J J. n. i-ait \ »oC 6«

ARTICLE

AKW DIELECTRICS, bif A’. L. bwkc . » . , . 72

SERIAL

JUiE.ADI-'VL SANCTr.MJy, i)V AJHi^ Frcmk UmsM . 89
i_Concluslun)

READERS’ DEPARTMENTS

THE EDITOR'S P.AOE 0

IN TIMES TO COMB 71

THE ANALYTICAL LAISOU.^TOUY 86

nOOK REVIEW 87

BRASS TACKS 157

COVER BY CANEDO '

Editor

JOHN W. CAMPBELL. JU.

lllustratfons by Cartier, Orban and Timmins

Tlie editorial rontents Dare not Deen puhllshed before, are protected t
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character Any similarity Is colnddental. ■

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NEXT ISSUE ON SALE -AUGUST 17, 1948

THE ATOMIC SECRET

Most of the great things of sci-
ence are ultimately reduced to
physically simple devices. Fifty
years of extremely difificult research,
topped off by the Manhattan Proj-
ect, has reduced the secret of re-
leasing atomic energy to a degree
of ultimate simplicity almost un-
realized. Literally and actually, the
release of atomic energy requires
only that pure natural uranium be
dissolved in heavy w'ater. The unit
need be only about the size of a
household bread box. It is inher-
ently capable of releasing energy
at any rate whatsoever — from a
milliwatt to a million megawatts, so
long as you can devise means for
carrying away the energy as it is
generated.

And that is the full secret of re-
leasing atomic energy-- a small Hsli
tank of heavy water, with a few
pounds of natural uranium in solu-
tion. There is no need to separate
the uranium isotopes. There is no
need for elaborate design of ura-
nium slugs and graphite spacing.
Just dissolve the pure uranium salt
in pure heavy water.

The graphite pile cannot be as
simple ; heavy hydrogen is the most
perfect of all moderators, so effi-
cient that elaborate spacing arrange-

ments are not needed. The oxygen
in the heavy water has almost zero
neutron absorption, and is a fair
moderator itself. Heavy water is
the only moderator that can make
natural uranium release its atomic-
energy in a chain fission reaction in
an homogeneous reactor ; graphite,
being less efficient as a moderator,
must be used in a nonhomogeneous
— i.e., scattered-lumps type — re-
actor.

But while the release of atomic
energy has been reduced to the ul-
timate simplicity, the problem of
harnessing atomic energy to pro-
duce something other than pure heat
is not so simply solved.

Our parlor fish tank-size heavy-
water uranium solution is capable
of releasing energy at a million
megawatt rate ; no heat-transfer
system known to, or imagined by
man can absorb any such immense
amount of power from so small a
volume. Yet so inordinately effi-
cient is the heavy-water moderator
that if a natural uranium solution
is made with a size of, say, fifteen
feet on a side, the reactivity would
be uncontrollable unless the solution
were diluted belovv' optimum
strength. The larger a volume of
uranium-moderator is used, the less

THK ATOMIC ST:CRKT

neutron-loss through the surfaces
in proportion to the neutron-genera-
tion intiie volume. Hence the in-
creased regitivity of the large ura-
nium-h^W water pile. The prob-
lem of extracting the enormous
energy generation from the pile,
not the energy capability of the pile
itself, is^he stumbling block.

It is literally true that, if you
can absorb -the heat generated at an
unlimited rate, any pile capable of
functioning at all can generate heat
at any rate you name. The mini-
mum size required for a function-
able pile is incredibly small. For
example, the figures on energy-re-
lease of the llikini bombs show that
approximately three pounds of 11-
235 or Plutonium-239 actually fis-
sioned. The published figures on
efficiency of fission in the bombs
indicate those three pounds repre-
sented about ten {)er cent of the
total. Be conservative, and say
fifty pounds of U-235 were re-
quired. Becau.se of the startlingly
high density of the metal, a cube
.^.25 inches on a side contains just
about fifty pounds of uranium.

It*s a little difficult to use atomic
bombs to run power plants, but you
can dissolve that uranium in heavy
water, converting it to a controlled
reaction. The usable heavy-water
pile using enriched uranium — natu-
ral uranium with added U-235 or
Pu-239 — can be smaller and lighter
than an automobile storage battery.
Atomically, it is capable of relea.sing
1,000.000,000.000 horsepower. We
haven't the slightest notion of how
any such immense energy genera-
tion could be absorbed from any

such small source fast enough to
prevent the heavy-water from
simply vanishing in a puff of heavy-
steam, leaving a dried crust of
uranium salts in the dry tank — and
automatically stopping the reaction
completely.

Our atomic engines will be big,
not because the atomic requirements
force that on lis, but because we
can’t absorb and utilize energy fast
enough in small equipment. Atoms
are too concentrated for us.

And, of course, in this discussion
of the atomic energy release me-
(diaiiism, we have overlooked two
other items that are very important
practical considerations, but not
properly atomic problents. One is
the little item that human beings
don’t function long, or well, in a
dense field of gamma ray and neu-
tron radiation. The fish tank pile
will work, but no man near it will — •
or live, either. There must l>e thick,
multi-layer shielding for human
safety. ( Although rolx)ts,'of course,
wouldn’t mind the working condi-
tions around an unshielded pile. )

The second item of major prac-
tical importance is that, oven after
the heat energy is extracted from
the pile, we will be faced with the
normal problePi of converting heat,
into u.seful mechanical or other
energy. The fish tank may supply
I, Coo, 000 horsepower, buk^we don't
have a fish tank-size steam turbine
that will yield that much power.
So we’re back to the old problem ;
we need a new type of engine, not
just a new way of hitching our old
engines to the atom. ,

The Editor.

ASTOUNDING SCIBNCB-PICTIOlt

TIME TRAP

BY CHARLES HARNESS

The nasty part about such a set-up xvas that those in-
side the circle of the times couldn't possibly do anything
to get out. Which made it just right for its purpose —

Illustrated

The Great Ones themselves never
agreed whether the events constitut-
ing Troy’s cry for help had a be-
ginning. But the warning signal
did have an end. The Great Ones
saw to that. Those of the Great
Ones who claim a beginning for
the story date it with the expulsion
of the eiil Sathanas from the Place
of Suns, when he tied, horribly
wounded, spiraling evasively in-
ward, through stcrechronia without

by Cartier

number, until, exhausted, he sank
and lay hidden in the crystallimng
magma of a tiny nciv planet at the
galactic rim.

General Blade sometimes felt that
leading a resistance movement was
far exceeding his debt to decent so-
ciety and that one day soon he would
allow his peaceful nature to over-
ride his indignant pursuit of justice..
Killing a man, even a very bad

TIME TRAI*

man, without a trial, went against
his grain. He sighed and rapped
on the table.

' “As a result of Blogshak’s mis-
appropriation of funds voted to
fight the epidemic,” he announced,
“the death toll this morning reached
over one hundred thousand. Does
the Assassination Subcommittee
have a recommendation ?”

A thin-lipped man rose from the
gathering. “The Provinarch ig-
nored our warning,” he said rapidly.
“This subcommittee, as you all
know, some days ago set an arbi-
trary limit of one hundred thousand
deaths. Therefore this subcommit-
tee now recommends that its plan
for killing the Provinarch be
adopted at once. Tonight is very
favorable for our plan, which, in-
cidentally, requires a married
couple. We have thoroughly cata-
synthesized the four bodyguards
who will be with him on this shift
and have provided irresistible scent
and sensory stimuli for the woman.
The probability for its success inso-
far as assassination is concerned is
about seventy-eight per cent ; the
probability of escape of our killers
is sixty-two per cent. We regard
these probabilities as favorable. The
Legal Subcommittee will take it
•from there.”

Another man arose. “We have
retained Mr. Poole, who is with us
tonight.” He nodded gravely to a
withered little man beside him.
“Although Mr. Poole has been a
member of the bar but a short time,
and although his pre-Iegal life —
some seventy years of it — remains
a mvstcry which he does not ex-

plain, our catasynthesis laboratory
indicates that his legal knowledge
is profound. More important, his
persuasive powers, tested with a
trial group of twelve professional
evaluators, sort of a rehearsal for
a possible trial, border on hypnosis.
He has also suggested an excellent
method of disposing of the corpse
to render identification difficult.
According to Mr. Poole, if the
assassinators are caught, the proba-
bility of escaping the devitalizing
chamber is fifty-three per cent.”

“Mr. Chairman !”

General Blade turned toward the
new s])eaker, who stood quietly
several rows away. The man seemed
to reflect a gray inconspicuousness,
relieved only by a gorgeous rose-
bud in his lapel. Gray suit, gray
eyes, graying temples. On closer
examination, one detected an edge
of flashing blue in the grayness.
The eyes no longer seemed softly
unobtrusive, but icy, and tlie firm
mouth and jutting chin seemed
jwHshed steel. General Blade had
observed this phenomenon dozens
of times, but he never tired of it.

“You have the floor. Major
T roy,” he said.

“I, and perhaps other League
ofticers, would like to know more
about Mr. Poole,” came the quiet,
faintly metallic voice. “He is not
a member of the League, and yet
Legal and Assassination welcome
him in their councils. I think we
should be provided some assurance
that he has no associations with
the Provinarch’s administration.
One traitor could sell the lives of
all of us.”

ARTOUXDTNG SO I E N C E ■ F 1 CT I O N

The I-Cgal spokcsuuin arose again.
“Major Troy's objections are in
some degree merited. We don't
know who Mr. Poole is. His mind
is absolutely impenetrable to tele-
pathic probes. His fingerprint and
eye vein patterns arc a little* ob-
scure. Our attempts at identifica-
tion”— he laughed sheepishly — “al-
ways key out to yourself, major.
An obvious impossibility. So far
as the world is concerned, Mr.
Poole is an old man who might
have been born yesterday ! All we
know of him is his willingness to
co-operate with us to the best of
his ability — which, I can assure
you, is tremendous. T!ie catasyn-
tbesizer has established his sympa-
thetic attitude l)cyond doubt. Don't
forget, too, that he could he charged'
as a principal in this assassination
and devitalized himself. On the
whole, he is our man. if our killers
are caught, we must use him.”

Troy turned and studied the little
lawyer with narrowing eyes ; Poole's
face seemed oddly familiar. The
old man returned the gaze sardoni-
cally, with a faint suggestion of a
smile.

“Time is growing short, major,”
urged the Assassination cliairnian.
“The Poole matter has already re-
ceived the attention of qualified
League investigators. It is not a
proper matter for discussion at this
time. If you are satisfied with the
arrangements, will you and Mrs.
Troy please assemble the childless
married couples on your list? The
men can draw lots from the fish
bowl on the side table. The red

ball decides.” He eyed Troy ex-
pectantly.

.Still standing. Troy looked down
at the woman in the adjacent seat.
Her lips were half-parted, her black
eyes somber pools as she looked uj>
at her husband.

“MTll, Ann?” he telepathcM.

Her eyes seemed to look through
him and far beyond. “He will
make you draw the red ball, Jo'/i,”
she murmured, trancelike. “Then
he will die. and I will die. But Jon
Troy will never die. Never die.
Never die. Nev — ”

“Wake up, Ami!” Troy shook
her by the shoulder. To the puz-
zled faces about them, he explained
quickly, “My wife is something of
a secress.” He ’pathed again ;
“Who is- hef"

Ann Troy brushed the black hair
from her brow slowly. “It’s all
confused. He^ is someone in this
room — ” She started to get up.

“Sit down, dear,” said Troy
gently. “If I’m to draw the red
fiall, I may as well cut this short."
He slid past her into the aisle,
strode to the side table, and thrusi
his hand into the hole in the box
sitting there.

Every eye was on him.

His hand hit the invisible fish
bowl with its dozen-odd plastic
balls. Inside the bowl, he touched
the little spheres at random whilc
he studied the people in the room.
Ail old friends, except — Poole.
That tantalizing face. Poole was
now staring like the rest, except
that beads of sweat were forming
on his forehead.

Troy swirled the balls around the

TIME TK.U'

bowl; the muffled clatter was aud-
ible throughout the room. He felt
his fingers close on one. His hands
were perspiring freely. With an
effort he' forced himself to drop it.
He chose another, and looked at
Poole. The latter was frowning.
Troy could not bring his hand out
of the bowl. His right arm seemed
partially paralyzed. He dropped
the ball and rolled the mass around
again. Poole was now smiling.
Troy hesitated a moment, then
picked a ball from the center of the
bowl. It felt slightly moist. He
pulled it out, looked at it grimly,
and held it up -for all to see.

*‘Just ’patli that!” whispered the
jail warden reverentl> to tlie night
custodian.

“^'ou know I can’t tclepath,”
said the latter grumpily. "What
are they saying?”

“Not a word all ni ;ht. They
seem to be taking a symposium of
the best piano concertos since maybe
the twentieth century. Was Chopin
twentieth or twenty-first? Any-
how, they’re up to the twenty-third
now, with Darnoval. Troy repro-
duces the orchestra and his wife
does the piano. You’d think she
had fifty years to live instead of
five minutes.”

“Both seem nice people,” rumi-
nated the custodian. “If they hadn’t
l-illed the Provinarch, maybe they’d
have become famous ’pathic musi-
cians. She had a lousy lawyer.
She could have got off with ten
years sleep if he’d half tried.” He
pushed some papers across the
desk. “I’ve had the chamber

checked. Want to look over the
readings ?”

The warden scanned them rap-
idly. “Potential difference, eight
million ; drain rate, ninety vital
units/minute; estimated period of
consciousness, thirty seconds ; es-
timated durance to nonrecovery
point, four minutes ; estimated
durance to legal death, five min-
utes.” He initialed the front sheet.
“That’s fine. When I was younger
they called it the 'vitality drain
chamber.’ Drain rate was only
two v.u./min. Took an hour to
drain them to unconsciousness.
Pretty hard on the condemned
people. Well, I’d better go offi-
ciate.”

Wlien Jon and Ann Troy finished
the Darnoval concerto they were
silent for a few moments, exchang-
ing simply a flow of wordless, un-
fathomable perceptions between
their cells. Troy was unable to
disguise a steady beat of gloom.
“We’ll have to go along with Poole’s
plan.” be ’pathed, “though I con-
fess I don’t know what his idea is.
Take your capsule now.”

His mind registered the motor
impulses of her medulla as she re-
moved the pill from its concealment
under her armpit and swallowed it.
Troy then perceived her awareness
of her cell door opening, of grim
men and women about her. Motion
down corridors. Then the room.
A clanging of doors. A titanic
effort to hold their fading contact
One last despairing communion,
loving, tender.

Then nothing.

He was still sitting with his face

ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

buried in his hands, when the
guards came to take him to his owb
trial that md'rning.

“This murder,” annoiaiced the*
Peoples' advocate to the twelve
evaluators, “this crime of taking
the life of our beloved Provinarch
Blogshak, this heinous deed — is the
most horrible thing that has hap-
pened in Niork in my lifetime. The
creature charged with this crime”
— he pointed an accusing finger at
the prisoner’s — “Jon Troy has

been psyched and has been ad-
judged integrated at a preliminary
hearing. Even his attorney” — here
bowing ironically to a b^dy-eyed
little man at counsels’ tabic —
“waived the defense of nonintegra-
tion.”

Poole continued to regard the
Peoples! advocate with bitter weari-
ness, as though he had gone through
this a thousand times and knew
every word that each of them was
going to say. The prisoner seemed
oblivious to the advocate, the twelve
evaluators, the judge, and the
crowded courtroom. Troy’s mind
was blanked out. The dozen or
so educated telepaths in the room
could detect only a deep beat of
sadness.

“I shall prove,” continued the
inexorable advocate, “that this mon-
ster engaged our late Provinarch
in conversation in a downtown bar,
surreptitiously placed a lethal dose
of skon in the Provinarch’s glass,
and that Troy and his wife — who,
incidentally, paid the extreme pen-
alty herself early this — ”

“Objection !” cried Poole, spring-

ing. to his feet. The defendant,
not his wife, is now on trial.”

“Su^ined,” declared the judge.
“The advocate may not imply to
the evaluators that the possible guilt
of the present defendant is in any
way determined by the proven guilt
of any past defendant. The ev'alu-
ators must ignore that implication.
Proceed, advocate.”

“Thank you, your honor.” He
turned again to the evaluators’ box
and scanned them with a critical
eye. “I shall prove that the prisoner
and the late Mrs. Troy, after poison-
ing Provinarch Blogshak, carried
his corpse into their sedan, and that
they proceeded then to a deserted
area on the outskirts of the city.
Unknown to them they were pur-
sued by four of the mayor’s body^
guards, who, alas, had been lured
aside at the ’ bar by Mrs. Troy.
Psychometric determinations taken
by the police laboratory will be
-offered to prove it was the prisoner’s
intention to dismember the corpse
and burn it to hinder the work of
the police in tracing the crime to
him. He had got only as far as
severing the head when the guards’
ship swooped up and hovered overr
head. He tried to run back to his
own ship, where his wife was wait-
ing, but the guards blanketed the
area with a low-voltage stun.”

The advocate paused. He was
not getting the reaction in the
evaluators he deserved, but he knew
the fault was not his. He was
puzzled; he would have to con-
clude quickly.

“Gentlemen,” he continued grave-
ly, "“for this terrible thing, the

TIME TBAP

Provipxe demands die life of Jon
Troy. 'Ihc monster must enter tlie
cliamber He bowled to

tlie judge auu letumcd to counseis’
table.

'Ihe judge acknowledged the re-
tirement and turned to Poole. “Does
the defense wish to make an open-
ing statement?”

“The defense reiterates its plea
of ‘not guilty’ and makes no other
statement,” grated the old man.

There was a buzz around the
advocates’ end of the table. An
alert defense wfth a w’eak case al-
ways opened to the evaluators.
VVho was this Poole ? What did he
have? Had they missed a point?
The prosecution was committed
now. They’d haie to start with
their witnesses.

The advocate arose. “Tlic prose-
cution offers as witness Mr. Fon-
stile.”

“Mr. Fonstile!” called the clerk,

A burly, resentful-looking man
blundered his way from the benches
and walked up to the witness box
and was sworn in.

Poole was on his feet. “May it
] )lease the court !” he croaked..

The iudge eyed him in surprise.
“Have you an objection, Mr.
Poole?”

“No objection, your honor,”
rasped the little man, without ex-
pression. ‘T would only like to say
that the testimony of this witness,
the bartender in the Shawn Hotel,
is 'probably offered by my opponent
to prove facts which the defense
readily admits, namely, that the wit-
ness observed Mrs. Troy entice the
four bodyguards of the deceased

to another part of the room, that
■’the present defeniant surreptitious-
ly placed a »)owder in the wine of
the deceased, that the deceased
dj-ank tije wine and coUapsed, and
wus carried out of tlie room by the
defendant, followed by his wife.”
He bowed to the judge and sat
down.

The judge was nonplussed. “Mr.
Poole, do you understand that you
are responsible for the defense of
this prisoner, and that he is charged
with a capital offense?”

“That is my understanding, your
honor.”

“Then if prosecution is agree-
able, and wishes t' elicit no further
evidence from the witness, he will
be excused.”

The advocate looked puzzled, but
called the next witness. Dr. War-
kon, of tlie Provincial Police Labor-
atory. Again Poole was on his
feet This time tlie whole court
eyed him expectantly. Even Troy
stared at him in fascination.

“May it please the court,” came
the now-familiar monotone, “the
witness called by the opposition
probably expects to testify that the
deceased’s finger prints were found
on the wineglass in question, that
traces of deceased’s saliva were
identified in the liquid content of
the glass, and that a certain quan-
tity of skon was found in the wine
remaining in the glass.”

“And one other point, Mr.
Poole,” added the Peoples’ advocate.
“Dr. Warkon was going to testify
that death .from skon poisoning
normally occurs within thirty sec-

A STOUNmXO sriENI’E-FICTION

onds, owing to syncope. Docs the
defense concede that?”

“Yes.”

“The witness is then excused,”
ordered tlae judge.

The prisoner straightened up.
Troy studied his attorney curiously.
The mysterious Poole with the
tantalizing face, the man so highly
recommended .by the League, had
let A.nn go to her death with the
merest shadow of a defense. And
now he seemed even to state the
prosecution's case rather than de-
fend the prisoner.

Nowlierc in the courtroom did
Troy see a League member. But
then, it would be folly for (icnerai
Blade to attempt his rescue. That '
would attract unwelcome attention
to the League.

He had been abandoned, and was
on his own. Many League officers
had been killed by Blogshak’s men,
but rarely in the devitalizing cham-
ber. It was a point of honor to die
weapon in hand. Hi.s first step
would be to seize a blaster from one
of the guards, use the judge as a
shield, and try to escape through
the judge’s chambers. lie would
wait until he was put on the staml.
It shouldn’t be long, considering
how Poole was cutting corners,

The advocate was conferring with
his assistants. “Wliat’s Poole up
to?” one of them asked. “If he
is going on this far, wh)* not get
him to admit all the facts constitut
ing a prima facie ease : M.alice, in-
tent to kill, and all that?”

The advocate’s eyes gleamed. “J
think I know what he’s up to now,”

he exulted. .“I believe he’s for-
gotten an elementary theorem of
criminal law. He’s going tp admit
everything, then demand we pro-
duce Blogshak's corpse. He must
know it was stolen from the body-
guards when their ship landed at
the port. No corpse, no murder,
he’ll say. But you don’t need a
corpse to prove murder. We’ll
hang him with his own rope!” He
arose and addressed the judge.

‘‘May it please the court, the
prosecution would like to ask if the
defense will admit certain other
facts w'hich I stand ready to prove..”
The judge frowmed. “The pris-
oner pleaded not guilty. Therefore
t!ie court will not permit any ad-
mission of the defense to the effect
that the prisoner did kill the de-
ceased, unless he wants to change
his plea.” He looked inquiringly
at Poole.

“I understand, your honor,” sai<l
Poole. “May I hear what facts the
learned prosecutor wishes me to ac-
cede to?”

For a moment the prosecutor
studied his enigmatic antagonist
like a master swordsman.

“First, the prisoner administered
a lethal dose of skon to the deceased
with malice aforethought, and with
intent to kill. Do you concede
that?”

“Yes.”

“And that the deceased collapsed
within a few seconds and was car-
ried from the room by the defendant
and his wife?”

“We agree to that.”

“And that the prisoner carried the

TIME TRAP

body to the city outskirts and there
decapitated it ?”

“I have already admitted that.”

The twelve evaluators, a selected
group of trained experts in the es-
timation of probabilities, followed
this unusual procedure silentJy.

“Then your honor, the prosecu-
tion rests.” The advocate telt
dizzy, out of his depth. He felt he
had done all that was necessary
to condemn the prisoner. Yet Poole
seemed absolutely contident, almost
bored. ' ■

“Do you have any witnesses, Mr.
Poole,” qyeried tlte judge.

‘T will ask tire loan oi Dr. War-
kon, if the Peoples’ advocate will
be so kind,” rej)licd the little nian.

*T’m willing.” The advocate was
Ireginuing to look harassed. Dr.
VVarkon was sworn in.

“Dr, Warkon, did not the psy-
chometer show that the prisoner in-
tended to kill Blogshak in the tavern
and decapitate him at the edge of
the city?”

“Yes, sir.”

‘^Vas, in fact, the deceased dead
when he was carried from the
hotel?”

“lie I’ad enough skon in him to
have kilkd forty people.”

“Please answer the question.”

“Well, I don’t know. I presume
he was dead. As an expert, looking
at all the evidence, I should say he
was dead. If he didn’t die in the
room, he was certainly dead a few
.seconds later.V

“Did you feel his pulse at any
time, or make any examination to
determine the time of death?”
“Well, no ”

Now, thought the advocate,
comes the no corpse, no murder.
If he tries that, I’ve got him.

But Poole was not to be pushed.
“Would you say the deceased was
dead when the prisoner’s ship
reached the city limits ?”
“A)')solutely !”

“When you, as police investigator,
examined the scene of the decapi-
tation, what did you find?”

“The place where the corpse had
lain was easily identified. Depr^-
sions in the sand marked the back,
head, arms, and legs. The knife
was lying where the prisoner
dro])ped it. Marks of landing gear
of the ])risohers .shi]') were about
forty feet away. Lots of blood,
of course.”

“Where was the l>Io.od ?”

“About four feet away from the
head, straight out.”

Poole let the statenrent sink in,
then :

“Dr. Warkon. as a doctor of
medicine, do you realize the signifi-
cance of wliat you have just said?”
The witness gazed at his inquisi-
tor as though hypnotized. “Four
feet . . . jugular spurt — ” he mut-
tered to no one. He stared in won-
der. first at the withered, masklike
face before him, then at the advo-
cate, then at the judge. “Your
honor, the decea.sed’s heart was still
beating when the prisoner first ap-
plied the knife. The poison didn’t
kill him !”

.An excited buzz resounded
through the courtroom.

Poole turned to the judge. “Your
honor, I move for a summary judg-
ment of acquittal.”

.ASTOUNDING .SCIBNOE-FTOTION

The advocate sprang to his feet,
wordless.

“Mr. Poole/' remonstrated the
judge, “your behavior this morning
has been extraordinary, to say the
least. On the bare fact that the
prisoner killed with a knife instead
of with poison, as the evidence
at first indicated, you ask summary
acquittal. The court will require
an explanation.”

ing, but not murder. If there was
any murder, it must have been at
the instant he decapitated the 'de-
ceased. Yet what was his intent
on the city outskirts ? He wanted
to mutilate a corpse. His intent
was not to murder, but to mutilate.
We have the act, but not the intent
— no mens rea. Therefore the act
was not murder, but simply mutila-
tion of a corpse — a crime punishable

“Yourlionor” — there was a ghost by fine or imprisonment, but not
of a smile flitting about the prim, death.”

tired mouth — “to be guilty of a Troy’s mind was whirling. This
crime, a man must intend to com- incredible, dusty little man had
mit a crime. There must be a mens freed him.

rea, as the classic expression goes. “But Troy’s a murderer!”
The act and the intent must coin- shouted the advocate, his face white,
cide. Here they did not. Jon Troy “Sophisms can’t restore a life!”
intended to kill the Prbvinarch in “The court does not recognize
the bar of the Shawn Hotel. He the advocate!” said the judge harsh-
gave him poison, but Blogshak ly. “Cut those remark^ from the
didn’t die of it. Certainly up to record,” he directed the scanning
the time the knife was thrust into clerk. “This court is guided by the
Blogshak’s throat, Troy may have principles of common law descended
been guilty of assault and kidnap- from ancient England. The learned

r-fMJ] TRAP

counsel lor the defense has staled
those principles correctly. Homicide
is not murder . if there is no intent
to kill. And mere intent to kill is
not murder if the poison doesn’t
take effect. This is a strange, an
unusual case, and it is revolting
for me to do wltat I have to do.
] acquit the prisoner.”

“Your honor!” cried the advo-
cate. Receiving recognition, he pro-
ceeded. “This . . . this felon should
not escape completely. He should
not be’ permitted to make a travesty
of the law. His own counsel ad-
mits he has broken the statutes on
kidnaping, assault, and mutilation.
'J'he evaluators can at least return
a verdict of guilty on those counts.”

“I am just as sorry as you are,”
ri^lied the judge, “but 1 don’t hnd
those counts in the indictment. Vou
should have included them.”

“If you release him, your honor,
I’ll rc-arre,st him and frame a new
indictment.”

"This court will not act on it.
It is contrary to the Constitution
of this Province for a person to be
prosecuted twice on the same charge
or on a charge which should have
been included in the original indict-
ment. Tlie Peoples’ advocate is
estopped from taking further action
on this case. This is the final ruling
of this court.” He took a drink of
water, wrapped his robes about him,
and strode through the rear of
the courtroom to his chambers.

Troy and Poole, the saved and
the savior, eyed one another with
the same speculative look of their
first meeting.

Poole opened the door of the
’copter parked outside the Judiciary
Building and motioned for Troy
to enter. Troy froze in the act of
climbing in.

A man inside the cab, with a face
like a claw, was pointing a blaster
at his chest.

The man was Bhgskak!

Two men recognizable as the
Provinardi’s bodyguards suddenly
materialized behind Troy.

“Don’t give us any trouble,
major,” murmured Poole easily.
“Better get in.”

The moment Troy was )>ushed
into the subterranean suite he -icnsed
Ann was alive— drugged insensate
still, but alive, and near. This
knowledge suppressed momentarily
Blogshalv’s incredible existence and
Poole’s lictrayal. Concealing his
elation, he turned to Poole.

‘T should like to see my wife.” ,

Poole motioned silently to one of
the guards, who pulled back sliding
doors. Beyond a glass panel, which
was actually a transparent wall of
a tile room, Ann lay on a high white
metal bed. A nurse was on the far
side of the bed, exchanging glances
with Poole. At some unseen signal
from him the nurse swabbed Ann’s
left arm and thrust a syringe into
it.

A shadow crossed Troy’s face.
“What is the nurse doing?”

“In a moment Mrs. Troy will
awaken. Whether she stays awake
depends on you.”

“On me? What do you mean?”

“Major, what you are about to
feam can best be demonstrated

ASTOUNDING SCIENCK-PICTION

rather than described. 'Sharg, the
rabbit!”'

TThe bettle-browed man opened
a large enamel pan on the table.
A white rabbit eased, its way out,
wrinkling its nose gingerly. Sbarg
lifted a cleaver from the table.
There was a dash of metal, a spurt
of blood, and the rabbit’s head fell
to the. floor. Sliarg picked it up
by the ciirs and held it, up expect-
antly, The eyes were glazed almost
shut. The rabbity's body lay. limp
in the pan. At a word from Poole,
Sbarg carefully replaced the severed
head, pressing it gentl}^ to the bloody
neck stub. Withui secunds the nose
twitched, the eyes blinked, and the
ears perked up. The animal shook
itself vigorously, scratched once or
twice at the bloody ring around its
neck, then began nibbling at a head
of lettuce in the p<m,

Troy’s mind was racing. The
facts were falling in line. All at
once everything iiuide sense. Witli
knowledge came utmost wariness.
The next move Was up to Poole,
who was eMniifting w*ith keen eyes
the effect of his demonstration on
Troy.

“Major, .1 don’t know how much
you have surmised, but at least you
canndt, help realizing tliat life, even
highly organized vertebrate life, is
resistant to 4eatli in your presence.”

Troy folded his arms but votiin'
teered nothing. He was finally get-
ting a glimpse of the vast and secret
power supporting the Previnarch’s
tyranny, loi^ suspected by the
League but never rerified.

*'You could not be expected to
discover this rriarvelous property in

TIMK TH.VP

yourself excej^i by the wildest
chance,” continued Poole. “As a
matter of fact, our staff discovered
it only when Blpgshak and his hys-
terical guards reported to us, after
your little esGapade. But we have
been on the lookout for your type
for yirars. Several mutants with
this, chacteristic have been predicted
by pur probability geneticists for
this century, but yOu are the first
known to us — really perhaps the
only one in existence. One is all
we need,

“As a second and final test of
yqur powder, we decided to try the
effect of your aura o.n. a person in
the devitalizing chamber. For that
reason w*c. permitted Mrs. Troy to
be (londernned, when we could
easily .have prev^ted it. As you
now know, your power sustained
your wife’s life against a strong
drain of potential. At my instruc-
tion sl^e drugged herself in her cell
simply to satisfy the doctor who
checked her pulse and reflexes after-
wards. . When the staff — my
ployers — examined her here, dhey
were convinced that you had the
mutation they were looking for, and
we put the finishing touches on our
plans to save you from the cham-
ber.”

Granting I have some. Strang
biotic influence, fhPUght TrOy, still,
something’s wTong. He says his
bunch became interested in me after
my attempt on Blogshak. Bttt
Poole was at the assassination meet-
ing! W’liat is his independent in-
terest ?

Poole studied him curiously. “1
doubt that you realize what tremen-
n

dous efforts have been made to in-
siaxc yOur presence here. For the
past two weeks the staff has hired
several thousand persons to under-
mine the critical faculties of the
four possible judges and nine hun-
dred evaluators who might have
heard your case. Judge Gallon, for
exaniple, was not in an analytical
mood this morning because we saw
to it that he won the Province
Chess Chamihonship with his Inner
Gambit — a prize he has sought for
thirty years. But if he had fooled
us and given your case to the eval-
uators, we were fairly certain of
a favorable decision. You noticed
how they were not concentrating on
the advocate’s opening statement?
They couldn’t ; they were too full
of the incredible good fortune they
liad encountered the previous week.
Sommers had been promoted to a
full professorship at the Provincial
University. Gunnard’s obviously
faulty thesis on space strains had
l)een accepted by the Steric Quar-
terly— after we bought the maga-
zine. But why go on? Still, if
the iniprobal)le had occurred, and
you had been declared guilty by the
evaluators, vve would simply have
spirited you away from the court-
room. With a few unavoidable
exceptions, every spectator in the
room was a trained staff agent,
ready to use his weapons— ^though
in the presence of your aura, I
doubt they could have hurt anyone.

“Troy, the staff had to get you
here, but we preferred to do it
quietly. Now, why are you here ?
T’ll tell 3^u. Your aura, we think,
will keep — ” Poole hesitated.

“Your aura will keep . . . /f . . .
from dying during an approaching
crisis in its life stream.”

“It? What is this ‘it’? And
what makes you so sure I’ll stay ?”

“The staff has not authorized me
to tell you more concerning the
nature of the entity you are to pro-
tect. Suffice to say that It is a
living, sentient being. And I think
yQu’ll stay,* because the hypo just
given Mrs. Troy was pure sf?on.”

Trdy had already surmised as
much. The move was perfect. If
he stayed near her, Ann, though
steeped in the deadliest known
poison, woukl not die. But why had
they been so sure he would not stay
willtngdy, without Ann as hostage?
He ’pathed the thought to Poole,
who curtly refused to answer.

“Now, major. Pm going to turn
this wing of the City Building over
to you. For your information, your
aura is effective: for a certain dis-
tance within the building, but just
how far I’m not going to tell you.
However, you are not {jerniitted to
leave your apartment at all. The
staff has demoted the Provinarch,
and he’s now the corporal of your
bodyguard. He would be exceed-
ingly embarrassed if’ you succeeded
in leaving. Meals will be brought to
you regularly. The cinematic and
micro library is well stocked on
your favorite subjects. Special
concessions may even he made as
to things you want in town. But
you can never touch your wife
again. That pane of glass will al-
ways be between you. A psychic
receptor tuned to your personality

A ST O U N D I NO SCI E NC E -PICT 1 O N

integration is fixed wkhin Mrs.
Troy’s room. If you break the glass
panel, or in any other way attempt
to enter the room, the receptor will
automatically .actuate a bomb me-
chanism imbedded beneath Mrs.
Troy’s cerebellum. She would be
blown to little bits — each of them
alive as long as you were around.
It grieves us to be crude, but the
situation requires some such safe-
guard.”

“When will my wife recover
consciousness?”

“Within an hour or so. But
what’s your hurry ? You’ll be here
longer than you think.”

The little lawyer seemed lost in
thought for a moment. Then he
signaled Blogshak and the guards,
and the four left. Blogshak favored
Troy with a venemous scowl as he
closed and locked the door.

There was complete and utter
silence. Even the rabbit sat quietly
on the table, blinking its eyes ’ at
Troy.

Left alone, the man surveyed the
room, his perceptions palping every
square foot rapidly but carefully.
He found nothing unusual. He
debated whether to explore the wing
further or to wait until Ann awak-
ened. He decided on the latt^
course. The nurse had left. The^
were together, with just a sheet of
glass between. He explored Ann’s
room mentally, found nothing.

Then he walked to the center
table and picked up the rabbit.
There was the merest suggestion
of a cicatrix encircling the neck.

Wonderful, but frightful, thought
Troy. Who, what, am I?

TIME TH.4P

He put the rabbit back in the box,
pulled a comfortable armchair
against the wall opposite the glass
panel, where he had a clear view
of Ann’s room, and began a me-
thodical attempt to rationalize the
events of the day.

He was jolted from his reverie
by an urgent ’palhic call from Ann.
After a flurry of tender perceptions
each unlocked his mind to the other.

Poole had planted an incredible
message in Ann’s ESP lobe.

“Jon,” she warned, “it’s coded to
the Dar — ... I mean, it’s coded to
the notes and frequencies of our
last c(^certo, in the death! house.
You’ll have to synchronize. I’ll
start.”

How did Poqle know we were
familiar with the concerto? thought
T roy.

“Think on this carefully, Jon
Troy, and guard it well,” urged
Poole’s message. ‘T cannot risk my
identity, but I am your friend. It
— the Outcast — has shaped the
destinies of vertebrate life on earth
for millions of years, for two pur-
poses. One is a peculiar kind of
food. The other is . . . you. You
have been brought here to preserve
an evil life. But I urge you, develop
your latent powers and destroy that
life!

“Jon Troy, the evil this entity
has wreaked upon the earth, en-
tirely through his human agents
thus far, is incalculable. It will
grow even worse. You thought a
sub-electronic virus caused the hun-
dred thousand deaths which
launched you on your assassination
junket. Not so! The monster in

the earth directly beneath you
simply drained them of vital force,
in their homes, on the street, in the
theater, anywhere and everywhere.
Your piiny League has been light-
ing the Outcast for a generation
without the faintest conception of
the real enemy. If you have any
love for humanit)', search Elog-
shak’s miiid today. I'he staff phy-
sicians will be in this wing of the
building today, too. Probe them.
This evening, if I am still alive, 1
shall explain more, in person, free
from Blogsliak’s crew.’*

“You have been wondering about
the nature of the being whose life
you are protecting,” said Poole in a
low voice, as he looked about the
room. “As you learned when you
arched the minds of the physicians
this morning, he is nothing human.
I believe him to have been vrounded
in a battle with his own kind, and
that he has Iain in his present pit
for millions of years, possibly since
pre-Cambrian times. He probably
has extraordinary powers even in
his weakened state, but to my
knowledge he has never used them.”

“Why not?” asked Troy. ■

“He must be afraid of attracting
the unwelcome attention of those
who look for him. But he has main-
tained his life somehow. The waste
products of his organic metabolism
are fed into our sewers daily. He
has a group of physicians and phy-
sicists— a curious mixture! — who
keep in repair his three-dimensional
neural cortex and run a huge ad-
ministrative organization designed
for his protection.'*

“Seems harmless enough, so far,”
said Troy.

“He’s harmless except for one
venemous habit. I thought I told
you about it in the message I left
with Ann. You must have verified
it if you probed Blogshak thor-
oughly.”

“But I couldn’t understand such
near caimibalism in so advanced — ”

“Certainly not cannibalism! Do
we think of ourselves as cannibals
when we eat steaks? Still, that’s
my main objectioa to Iiim. His
vitality must be maintained by tli«-
absorption of other vitalities, pref-
erably as high up the evolutionary-
scale as possible. Our thousands
of deaths monthly can be traced
to his frantic hunger for vital fluid.
The devitalizing dci^rtnicnt, which
Blogshak used to run, is the largest
section of the staff.”

“But what about the people tvln
attend him? Does he snap up any
of them?”

“He Itasn’t yet. Tlicy all have a
pact with him. Help him, and he
helps them. Every one of his band
dies old, rich, evil, and envied by
their ignorant neighbors. He gives
them everything they want. Some-
times they forget, like Blogshak,
that society can stand just so much
of their evil.”

“Assuming all you say is true —
how does it concern my own prob-
lem, getting Ann out of here and
notifying the League?”

Poole shook his head dubiously.
“You probably have some tentative
plans to hypnotize Blogshak ami
make him turn off the screen. But
no one on the staff understands the

ASTOITNOINO SCIKNOE-PTOTIOK

scr^n. None of them can turn it
off, because none of them turned it
on. The chief sui^con believes it
to be a direct, focused emanation
from a radiator made long ago
and Icnown now only to the Out-
cast. J.5ut doivt think ot escaping
just yet. can strike a trcmcn-

<lous, fatal blow without leaving
this room !

“This afternoon," TooIc con-
tinued witli growing nervousness,
“there culminates a project initialed
!)V the Outcast millennia ago. Just
ninety years ago the stalT began
the blueprints of a surgical opera-
tion on the Outcast on a scale which
would dwarf the erection of the
Mechanical Integrator. Indeed,
you won't be suf]')riscd to learn that
the Integrator, capal)le of ])Uuiar
sterechronic analysis, was hut a
preliminary practice projecl. a re-
iiearsal for the main event.’*

“Go on,” said Troy absently. 1 fis
seJisitive hearing detected heavy
I>reathing from Ik\voikI tlie door.

“To perform this colossal sur-
gery, the staff must disconnect for
a few seconds all of the essential
neural trunks. When this is done,
but tor your aura, the Outcast
would* forever after remain a mass
of senseless protoplasm and elec-
tronic efitiipment. With your aura
they can make the most dan'.'orous
repairs In ]wrfcct safety. When the
last neural i.s down, you simply
sup]>ress t'onr aura and the Outcast
is dead. Then you could force your
way out. From then on. the earth
could go its merry way iinhampcred
Vour League would eventually gain
ascendancy and — *' .

“What about Ana?” asked Ti-oy
curtly. “Wouldn’t she die along
with the Outcast ?”

“Didn’t both of you take an oath
to sacri6ce each other before you’d
injure the League or abandon aji
assignment ?”

“Tliat’s a nice legal point,” re-
plied Troy, watching the corridor
door behind Poole open a quaiter
of ah inch. “I met Ann three years
ago in a madhouse, where I had
hidden away after a League assign-
ment. She wasn’t mad, but the
stuijid overseer didn’t know it. She
had the ability to project herself
to other probaI)ility worlds. I liiar-
rted her to obtain a warning instru-
ment of extreme delicacy and
accuracy. Until that night in the
death house, I’d have altided by
r.eagne rules and abandoned her if
necessary. IWt no longer. Any-
plan which includes her death is
out. Suffering humanity can go
climb a tree.”

Poole’s \ oice was dry and crack-
ing. “1 presumed you’d say that.
You leave me no recourse. After 1
tell you who I am you will be will-
ing to turn off your aura even at
the cost of Ann’s life. I am your
. . . agh~”

A knife whistled through the
open door and sank in Poole’s neck.
Blogshak and Sharg rushed in.
liach man carried an ax.

“You dirty traitor!” screamed
rdogshak. His ax crashed through
the skull of the little old man even
as Troy sprang forward. Sharg
caught T roy under the chin with his
ax handle. For some minutes after-
ward Troy was dimly aware of

dioppicg, chopping, choppii^.

Troy's aching jaw finally aw<^e
him. He was lying on the sofa,
where bis keepers had evidently
l^aced him. There was an undefin-:
able raw odor about the room.

The carpet had been changed.

Troy's stomach muscles tensed.

■ What had this done to Ann ? He
was unable to catch her ESP lobe.
Probably out wandering through
the past, or future.

While he tried to toudi her mind,
there was a knock on the door, and
Blogshak ^ered with a man
dressed in surgeon’s while.

"Our operation apparently was a
success, despite your little mishap,”
'pathed the latter to Troy. “The
next thirty years will tell us defi-
nitely whether we did this correctly.
I'm afraid you’ll have to stick
around until then. 1 understand
you're great chiniis with the Pro%'in-
arch — ex-Provinarch, sliould I say?
I’m sure he'll entertain you. I’m
sorry about Poole. I'oor fellow!
Muft'ed his opportunities. Might
have risen very high on the staff.
But everything works out for the
best,, doesn’t it?”

Troy glared at him wordlessly.

“Once we’re out of here,” 'pathed
Troy in music code that afternoon,
“we’ll get General Blade to drop a
plute fission on this building. It all
revolves around the bomb under
your cerebellum. Tf we can deac-
tivate either the screen or the bomb.
we*re out. It's child’s play to scat-
ter Blc^shak's bunch.”

“If I had a razor,” replied Ann,

*T could cut the thing out. 1 can
feel it under my neck muscles.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. What can
you give me on Poole ?”

“He definitely forced you ta
choose the red ball at the League
meeting. Also, he knew he was
going to be killed in your room.
That made him nervous.”

“Did he know he was going to^be
killed, or simply anticipated the
possibility?”

“He knew. He had^ seen ii be~
fore r

Troy began pacing restlessly, up
and down before the glass panel,
but never looking at Ann, who lay
quietly in bed apparently reading a
book. The nurse sat in a chair at
the foot of Ann!s bed. arms folded,
implacably staring at her ward.

“Puzzling, very puzzling,*’ mused
Troy... “Any idea what he was going
to tell me about my aura?”

“Xo.”

“Anything on his identity?”

“I don’t know — I had a feeling
that I . . . we — No, it’s all too
vague, T noticed just one thing
for certain.”

“Wliat was that?” asked Troy.
He stopped pacing and appeare<l to
be examining titles on tlic book-
slielve.s.

"fie was wealing your rosebud!”
“But that’s crazy ! I had it on
all day. You must have be<m mis-
taken.”

“You know I can’t make errors
on such matters.”

“That’s so.” Troy resu|ning his
pacing. “Yet, I refuse to areept
the proposition that both of us were
wearing my rosebud at the same

ASTOrxniNG SCtEXCTC-FICTlOir

iastant. Well, never mind.. While
we’re figuring a way to deactivate
your bomb, we’d also better give a
little thought to solving my aura.

. “The solution is known — we have
to assume that our unfortunate
friend knew it. Great Galaxy 1
What our Le^ue biologists
wouldn’t give for a chance at thisi
We must idiange our whole con-
cept of living nudter. Have you
ever heard of the immortal heart
created by Alexis Carrel ?” he asked
abruptly.

“No.”

“At some time during the Second
Renaissance, early twentieth cen-
tury, I believe. Dr. Carrel removed
a bit of heart tissue from an em-
bryo chick and put it in a nutrient
solution. The tissue began to ex-
pand and contract rhythmically.
Every two days the nutrient solu-
tion was renewed and excess growth
cut away. Despite the catastrophe
that had overwhelmed the chick —
as a chick — the individual tissue
lived on independently because the
requirements of its cells were met.
This section of heart tissue' beat
for nearly three centuries, until it
was finally lost in tlie Second
Atomic War.”

“Are you suggesting that the
king’s men can put Hum])ty Dumpty
together again if due care has been
taken to nourish each part?”

“It’s a possibility. Don’t forget
the skills developed by the Mus-
covites in grafting skin, ears,
corneas, and so on.”

“But that’s a long process — it
takes weeks.”

“Then let’s try another line. Con-

3:1MB THAT

^er this: The .amodia lives' in 4
flmd medium. He bmnps into his
food, which is goserdly bactou
or bits of decaying protetn, flows
around it, digests it at Idsurei ex-
cretes his waste matter, and moves
on. Now go on up the evolutionary
scale past the coelenterates and Bat-
worms, until we reach the first trdfy
three-dimensional animals — the co-
elomates. . The flatworm had to be
flat because he had no blood vessels.
His food simply soaked into him.
But cousin roundworm, one of the
coelomates, grew plump and solid,
because his blood vessels fed His
specialized interior cells, whiA
would otherwise have no access to
food.

“Now consider a specialized ccU
—say a nice long muscle cell in the
rabbit’s neck. It can’t run around
in stagnant water looking for a
meal. It has to have its breakfast
brought to it, and its excrement
carried out by special messenger, or
it soon dies.”

Troy picked a book from the
shelf and leafed through it idly.

Ann wondered mutely « whether
her nurse had been weaned on a
lemon.

“This messenger,” continued
Troy, “is the blood. It eventually
reaches the muscle cell by means
of a capillary — a minute blood ves-
sel about the size of a red corpuscle.
Tlie blood in the capillary gives the
cell everything it needs and absorbs
the cell waste matter. The muscle
cell needs a continuously fresh sup-
ply of oxygen, sugar, amino-acids,
fats, vitamins, sodium, calcium, and
potassium salts, hormones,, water.

and maybe other things. It gets
these from the henn>gIobhi and
plasma, and it sheds carbon dioxide,
ammonium compounds, and so on.
Our cell can store up a little food
within its own boundaries to tide
it over for a number of hours. But
oxygen it must have, every instant."

“You’re just making the problem
worse," interposed Ann. “If you
prov& that blood must circulate oxy-
gen continuously to preserve life,
you’ll have yourself out on a limb.
If you’ll excuse the term, the rab-
bit’s circulation was dcctsivelv cut
off.”

“That’s the poser," agreed Troy.
“The blood didn’t circulate, but the
cells didn't die. And think of this
a moment: Blood is normally al-
kaline, with a pH of 7.4. When it
absorbs caibon dioxide as a cell
excretion, blood becomes acid, and
this steps up respiration to void the
excess carbon dioxide, via the lungs.
But so far as I could sec, the rabbit
didn’t even sigh after he got his
head back. There was certainly no
heavy breathing.”

“I’ll have to take yonr word for
it; I was out cold.”

"Yes, I know.” Troy began pac-
ing the room again. “It isn't feas-
ible to suppose the rabbit’s plasma
was buffered to an unusual degree.
That would mean an added con-
centration of sodium bicarbonate
and an increased solids content.
The cellular water would dialyze
into the blood and kill the creature
by simple dehydration.”

“Maybe he had unusual reserves
of hemoglobin,” suggested Ann.
“That woultl take care of your
oxygen problem.”

Troy rubbed his chin. “I doubt
it. Tliere are about five million
red cells in a cubic millimeter of
blood. If there arc very many
more, the cells w'ould oxidize muscle
tissue at a tremendous rate, and
the blood would grow hot, literally
cooking the brain. Our rabbit
would die of a raging fever. Hemo-
globin dissolves about fifty times
as much oxygen as plasma, so h
doesn’t take much liemoglobin to
start an internal conflagration.”

ASTOrNDINO SOIKNCn-FTCTlOX

‘‘\et the secret must lie in the .
hemoglobin. You just admitted
that the cells could get along for
long periods with only oxygen,”
persisted Ann.

“It’s worth thinking about. We
must learn more about the chem-
istry of the cell. You take it easy
for a few days while I go througli
Poole’s library.”

*'Could I do otherwise?” mnr-
timred Ann.

. . thus the effect of conCine-
ment varies from person to person.
The daustrophobe deteriorates rap-
idly, but the agoraphobe mellows,
and may find excuses to avoid the
escape attempt. The person of high
mental and physical attainments can
avoid atrophy by directing his every
thought to the destruction of the
confining force. In this case, the
increment in mental prowess is 5./
times the logarithm of the duration
of confinemeni measured in years.
The intelligent aiui determined
prisoner can escape if he lives long
enough** — J. and A. T., An Intro-
duction to Prison Escape, 4th Edi-
tion, I.,eague Publishers, p. l4.

In 1811 Avogadro, in answer to
the confusing problems of combin-
ing chemical weights, invented the
molecule. In 1902 Einstein re-
.solved an endless array of incom-
patible facts by su^esting a mass-
energy relation. ' Three centuries
later, in the tenth year of his im-
prisonment, Jon Troy was driven
!ii near-despair to a similar stand.
In one sure stq) of dazzling intui-
tion, he hypothesized the viton.

“The secret goes back to our old
talks on cell preservation,” he .ex-
plained with iUrC^tie^^ exdte-'
mmt to Ann. “The cell can live
for hours without proteins and salts,
because it has means of stbrii^
these nutrients from jxtst meats.
But oxygen it must have. Tltt
hem<^lobin takes up molecular oxy-
gen in the lung caipiQaries, ozonizes
it, and, since hemin is easily re-
duced, the red cells give up oxygen
to the ijmscle cells that need it, ih
return for carbon d^ioxide. After if
takes up the carbon dioxide, hemin
turns purple and enters the vein
system on the way back to the
lungs, and we. can forget it.

“Now, what is hemin? We can
break it down into etiopyrophorin,
which, like chlorophyll, contains
four pyrrole groups. The secret of
chlorophyll has - been known- for
years. Under a photon catalyst of
extremely short wave length, su<^
as ultraviolet light, cldorophyO
seizes molecule after molecule of
carbon dioxide and synthesizes
starches '^and sugars, giving off oxy-
gen. Hemin, with its eti(^yr(^horin,
works quite similarly, except tl^
it doesn’t need ultraviolet l^ht.
Now — ”

“But animal cell metabolism
works the other way,” objected
Ann. “Our cells take oxygen
and excrete carbon diosdde.”

“It dq?ends which cdls you are
talking about,” reminded Tr<^.
“The red corpuscle takes up carbon
dioxide just as its plant cousin,
chlorophyll, does, and they both
excrete oxygen. Oxygen is just as
much an excrement of the red cell

TIME THAI’

as carbon dioxide is of the muscle
cell/'

“That’s true,” admitted Ann,

“And that's where the vitoa
comes in,” continued Troy. “It
preserves the status quo of cell
chemistry. Suppose that an oxygen
atom has just been taken up by an
amino>acid molecule within the cell
protoplasm. The amino-acid im-
mediately becomes unstable, and
starts to split out carbon dioxide.
In the red corpuscle, a mass of
hemin stands by to seize the carbon
dioxide and offer more oxygen. But
the exchange never takes place.
Just as the amino-acid and the
hemin reach toward one another,
their electronic attractions are sud-
d^ly neutralized by a bolt of pure
energy front me : The viton ! Again
and again the cells try to excliange,
with' the same result. They can’t
die from lack of oxygen, because
their individual molecules never at-
tain an oxygen deficit. The viton
gives a very close approach to im-
mortality I”

“But lije seem to be getting older.
Perhaps your vitons don’t reach
every cdl?”

“Probably not,” admitted Troy.
“They must; stream radially from
some central point within me, and
of course they would decrease in
concentration according to the in-
verse square law of light. Even
so, they would keep enough cells
alive to preserve life as a whole.
In the case of the rabbit, after the
cut cell surfaces were rejoined,
there were still enough of them
alive to start the business of living
^fain. One might suppose, too,

that the viton accelerates the re-
establishment of cell boundaries in
the damaged areas. That would be
particularly important with the
nerve cells.”

“All right,” said Ann. “You’ve
got the viton. What arc you going
to do with it?”

“That’s another puzzler. First,
what part of my body .docs it come
from? There must be some sort
of a globular discharge area fed by
a relatively small but impenetrable
duct. If we suppose a muscle con-
trolling the duct — ”

“What you need is an old Geiger-
Miiller,” suggested Ann. “Locate
your discharge globe first, then the
blind spot on it caused by the duct
entry. The muscle has to be at that
point.”

“T wonder — ” mused Troy. “\\V
have a burnt-out cinema prcgcctioii
bulb around here somewhere. The
vacuum ought to be just aliout soft
enough by now to ionize readily.
The severed filament can be the two
electron poles.” He laughed mirth-
lessly : “I don’t know why I .should
b</ in a hurry. I won’t be able to
turn off the viton stream even if
I should discover the duct-muscle.”

Weeks later, Troy found his viton
sphere, just below the cerebral
frontal lobe. The duct led some-
where into the pineal region. Very
gingerly he investigated tlic duct
environment. A small but dense
muscle mas.s surrounded the entry
of the duct to the bulk of radiation.

On the morning of the first day
of the thirty-first year of their im-
prisonment, a ffew minutes before
the nurse was due with the skon

ASTOUNDING SCTBNCK-PICTION

hypo, Ann ’pathed to Troy that she
thought the screen was down. A
.joint search of the glass psfinel a£->
finned this.

Ann was stunned, like a caged
canary that suddenly notices the
door is open — she fears to stay, yet
is afraid to fly away.

“Get your clothes on, dear,”
urged Troy. “Quickly now ! If we
(k)n’t contact the Lej^e in the next
ten minutes, we never shall.”

* She dressed like an automaton.

Troy picked the lock on the cor-
ridor door noiselessly, with a key
he had long ago made for this day,
and opened the portal a quarter of
an inch. The corridor seemed
empty for its whole half-mile length.
There was a preternatural pal! of
silence hanging over everything.
Ordinarily, someone was always
stirring about the corridor at this
hour. He peered closely at the
guard’s cubicle down the hall. His
eyes were not what they once were,
and old Blogshak had never per-
mitted him to be fitted with con-
tacts.

He suck«i in his breath sharply.
The door of tlie cubicle was open,
and two bodies were visible on the
floor. One of the bodies had been
a guard. The green of his uniform
was plainly visible. The other
corpse had white hair and a face like
a wrinkled, arthritic claw. It was
Blogshak.

Two mental processes occurred
within Troy. To the cold, objec-
tive Troy, the thought occurred that
the viton flow was ineffective be-
yond one hundred yards. Troy the
human being wondered why the

TTUB TRAP

Outcast had not immediately reme-
died this weak point in the guard
system.- Heart pounding, be stepped
back within the suite. He seized a
chair, warned Ann out of the way,
and hurled it through the glass
panel. Ann stepped gii^efly through
the jagged gap. He held her for a
moment in his arms. Her hair was
a pure white, her face furrowed.
Her body sromed weak and ii^nn.
But it was Ann. Her eyes were shut
and she seemed to be floating
through time and space.

. *‘No time for a trance now!” He
shook her harshly, pulling her out
of the room and down the corridor.
He looked for a stair. There was
none.

“We’ll have to chance an auto-
vator!” he panted, thinking he
should have taken sewne sort of
bludgeon with him. If several oj
the staff should come down with
the ’vator, he doubted his ability to
hypnotize them all.

lie was greatly relieved when he
saw an empty 'vator already on the
subterranean floor. He leaped in,
pulling y\nn behind him, and pushed
the bottom to close the door. The
door closed quietly, and he pushed
the button for the first- floor,

“We'll try the street flocu* first,"
he said, breathing heavily, “Don’t
look around when we leave the
’vator. Just chatter quietly and act
as though we owned the place.”

The street floor was empty.

An icy thought began to grow
in Troy's mind. He stepped into
a neighboring ’vator, carrying Ann
with him almost bodily, closed the

door, and pressed the last button.
Ann was mentally out, but was try-
ing to tell him something. Her
thoughts were vague, unfocused.

If they were pursued, wouldn't
the pursuer assume they had left
the building? He hoped so.

' A malicious laughter seemed to
follow them up the shaft.

He gulped air frantically to ease
the i-oar in his ears. Ann had sunk
into a semi-stupor. He cased her
to the floor. The ’vator con-
tinued to climb. It was now in the
two hundreds. Minutes later it
stopped gently at the top floor, the
door opened, and Troy managed to
pull Ann out into a little plaza.

They were nearly a mile above
the city.

The penthouse roof of the City
Building was really a miniature
country club, with a small golf
course, swimming pool, and club''
house for informal admini-strative
functions. A cold wind now blew
across the closely ait green. The
swimming pool was empty. Troy
shivered as he dragged Ann near
the dangerously low guard rail and
looked over the city in the early
morning sunlight.

As far as he could see, nothing
was moving. There iverc no cars
gliding at any of the authorized
traffic levels, no ’copters or trans-
ocean ships in the skies.

For the first time, Troy’s mind
sagged, and he felt like the old man
he was.

As he stared, gradually under-
standing, yet half-imbelieving, the
rosebud in his lapel began to speak.

Mai-kel condensed the thin waste
of cosmic gas into several suns and
peered again down into the sieve-
chron. There could he no mistake
— there was a standing zvave of re-
current time emanating from the
tiny planet. The Great One made
himself small and approached the
little world with cautions curiosity.
Sathanas had been badly zvounded.
but it zvas hard to believe his in-
tegration had deteriorated to the
point of permitting oscillation in
time. And no intelligent life ca-
pable of time travel Zi'os scheduled
for this gala.vy. Who, thenf Mai-
kel synchronised himself zvith the
oscillation so that the events von-
stiiuting it seemed id nwvc at their
normal pace. His excitement nml-
tiplicd he'follmved the cycle.

It zvould be safest, of course, to
volatilise the whole planet. But
then, that courageous mite, that
microscopic hupian being who had
created the time trap would be lost.
Extirpation zvas indicated; — a clean,
fast incision done at jitst the light
point of the cycle.

Mai-kcl called his brothers.

Troy suppressed an impulse c)t
revulsion. Instead of tearing the
flower from his coat, he pulled it
out gently and held it at arm’s
length, where he could watch the
petals join and part again, in perfect
mimicry of the human mouth.

“Yes, little man, I am what you
call the Outcast. There are no
other little men to bring my me.s-
sage to you, so I take this means
of — ”

“You mean you devitalized every

ASTOUNDING SCIKNCU-PICTIO'

man, woman, and child in the prov-
ince ... in the whole world?”
croaked Troy.

“Yes. Within the past lew
months, iny apixjtite has been aston-
ishingly good, and I have succeeded
in storing within my neurals enough
vital fluid to carry me into the next
sterechron. There I can do the
same, and continue niy journey.
There's an excellent little planet
wailiijg for me, just bursting with
genial bipedal life. I can almost
feel their vital fluid within me,
now. And I’m taking you along,
of course, in case 1 meet some . . .
old friends. We'll leave now’.”

"Jon! Jon!” cried Ann, from
behind him. She was standing, but
weaving dizzily. Troy w’as at her
side in an instant. “Even he doesn’t
know’ who Poole is !”

“Too late for any negative infor-
mation now, dear,” said Troy dully.

“But it isn’t negative. If he
doesn’t know, then he w’on’t stop
you from going back.” Her voice
broke off in a wild cackle.

Troy looked at her in sad wonder.

“Jon,” she went on feverishly,
“your vitons help preserve the
status quo of cells by preventing
chemical change, ljut that is only
part of the reason they preserve
life. Each viton must also contain
a quantum of time flow, whidi
dissolves the vital fluid of the cell
and feprecipitates it into the next
instant. This is the only hypothesis
which explains the pre.servation of
the giant neurals of the Outcast.
There was no chemical change go-
ing on in them which required
stabilization, but sometliing liad to

TIME TRAP

keep the vital fluid alive. Now, if
you close the duct suddenly, the
impact of unreleased vitons will
send you back through time in your
present body, as an old man. Don’t
you understand about Poole, now,
Jon You will go back thirty years
through time, establish yourself in
tlie confidence of both the League
and the staff, attend the assassina-
tion conference, make young Troy
choose the red liall again, defend
him at the trial, and then you will
die in that horrible room again. You
have no choice about doing this,
because it has already happened!
Good-by, darling! You are Poole!”

I'here was an abrupt swish. Ann
had leaped over the guard rail into
space.

A gurgle of horror died in Troy’s
throat. Still clutching the now

silent I'ose in his hand, he jammed
the viton muscle with all his will
power, There was a sickening

shock, then a flutter of passing
days and nights. As he fell through
time, cold fingers seemed to snatch
frantically at him. But he knew
he W’as safe.

As he spiraled inward, Troy-
Poole blinked his eyes involuntarily,
as though reluctant to abandon a
languorous escape from reality. He
was like a dreamer awakened by
having his bedclothes blown off in
an icy gale.

He slowly realized that this was
not the first time he had suddenly
been bludgeoned into reality. Every
seventy years the cycle began for
him once more. He knew now that
seventy years ago he had completed

another identical circle in thne. And'
the lifetime before that, and the
one prior. There was no beginning
and no ending. The only reality
was this brief lucid interval be-
tween cycles, waiting for the loose
ends of time to cement. He had
the choice at this instant to vary the
life stretun, to fall far beyond
Troy's era, if he liked, and thus to
end this existence as the despairing
of time. What had he accom-
plished? Nothing, except retain, at
the cost of almost unbearable mo-
notony and pain, a weapon pointed
at the heart of the Outcast, a
weapon he could never persuade the
young Troy to use, on account of
Ann. Troy old had no influence
over Troy young. Poole could
never persuade Troy.

Peering down through the hoary
wastes of time he perceived how'
he had hoped to set up a cycle in
the time stream, a standing wave
noticeable to the entities who
searched for the Outca.st. Surely
with their incredible intellects and
perceptions this discrepancy in the
ordered universe would not go un-
noticed. He had hoped that this
trap in the time flow would hold tlie
Outcast until relief came. But as
Tiis memory rrturned he realized
that he had gradually given up
hope. Somehow he had gone on
from a sense of duty to the race
from which he had .sprung. From
the depths of his aura-fed nervous
system he had always found the
W'ill to tr\' again. But now his
nen'Ous exhaustion, increasing from
c>’cle to cycle by infinitesimal
amounts, seemed overpowering.

A curious thought occurred to
h«n. There must have been, at
one time, a Troy without a Poole
to guide — or entm^le — him. There
must have been a beginning — some
prototype Troy who selected the
red ball by pure accident, and who
was informed by a prototype staff
of his tremendous power. After
that, it ^vas easy to assume that the
first. Troy “went back” as the proto-
type ‘ Poole to scheme against the
life of the Outcast.

But searching down time, Troy-
Poole now found only the old com-
bination of Troy and Poole he knew
so well. Hundreds, thousands, mil-
lions of them, each preceding the
other. As far back as he could
sense, there was always a Poole
hovering over a Troy. Now he
would become the next Poole, en-
mesh the next Troy in the web of
time, and go his own way to bloody
death. He could not even plan a
comfortable suicide. No, to main-
tain perfect oscillation of the time
trap., all Pooles must always die in
the same manner as the first Poole.
There must be no invariance. He
suppresscfl a twinge of inipiiticncc
at the lack of foresight in the pro-
totype Poole,

“Just this once more,” he prom-
ised himself wearily, "then I’m
through. Next time Fll keep on
falling.”

General Blade .sometimes felt that
leading a resistance movement was
far exceeding his debt to decent
society and that one day soon he
would allow his peaceful nature to
override his indignant pursuit of

ASTOUKOIKO RCinNCR.PTCTTOJff.

justice. Killing a man, even a
very bad man, without a trial, went
against his grain. He sighed and
rapped on the table.

“As a result of Blogshak’s mis-
appropriation of funds to fight the
epidemic,” he announced, “the death
toll this morning reached over one
hundred thousand. Does the As-
sassination Subcommittee have a
recommendation ?”

A man entered the room quietly
and handed (lencral Blade an en-
velope. The latter read it quickly,
then stood up. *T beg your pardon,
but I must break in,” he announced,
“information 1 have just received
)nay change our plans completely.
This report from our intelligence
service is so incredible that 1 won’t
read ii to j'ou. Let’s verify it over
the video.”

lie switched on. the instrument.
The ])cam of a local newscasting
agency was focused tridimension-
aily l>efore the group. It showed a
huge pit or excavation which ap-
].)eared to move as the scanning
newscaster moved. The news com-
ments were heard in snatches. “No
explosion ... no sign of any force
. . . just complete disappearance,
THE

An hour ago the City Building was
the largest structure in . . . now
nothing but a gaping hole a mile
deep . . . the Provinarch and his
entire council were believed in con-
ference ... no trace — ”

General Blade turned an uncom-
prehending face to the committee.
“Gentlemen, I move that we ad-
journ this session .pending an in-
vestigation.”

Jon Troy and Ann left through
the secret alleyway. As he but-
toned his topcoat against the chill
night air, he sensed that they were
being followed. “Oh, hello?”

“I beg your pardon, Major Troy,
and yours, madam. My name is
Poole, Legal Subcommittee. You
don’t know me — yet, but I feel that
I know you both very well. Your
textbook on prison escape has in-
spired and sustained me ^lany times
in the past. I was just admiring
your boutonniere, major. It seems
so lifelike for an artificial rosebud.
I wonder if you could tell me where
I might . buy one ?”

Troy laughed metallicly. “It’s
not artificial. Pve worn it for
weeks, but it's a real flower, from
my own garden. It just won’t die.”
“Extraordinary,” murmured
Poole, fingering the red blossom
in his own lapel. “Could we run
in here for a cocktail ? Bartender
Eonstile will fix us something
special, and we can discuss a certain
matter you really ought to know
about.”

The doorman of the Shawn Hotel
bowed to the three as they went
inside. '

END

TIMK TRAP

SMALLER THAN YOU THINK

BV KENNETH CBAT

in a culture that luu! spread to the stars hy the slow, and
painful process of spending lifvtrmes in interstellar flight,
the faster than light ship xcas a xconderful boon — 7vasn*t it?

flUistrated by Orban

When the mile-long ship emerged no kmger a mere pip on the detector
from h)T)erspace the video room screen. As a solid reality, it was a
was crowded to capacity. The plan- beantifnl enough sight,
et which was ilYcir {i(\stinutiou was Eccn from the ship’s native Ex-

ASTOUXl>TXO aClEXCF-nCTlON

celsia, a goodly six light-years dis-
tant, the spectroscope had hinted at
its existence. Its primary sun was
of the right type, the nwst favor-
able intensity range, the exact sj)cc-
iral age, to favor a heliod iilaucl —
one favorable to human life. And
if one so existed, in this old-scttlcd
region of space, it hardly could have
escaped being colonized.

“About ^ven thousand miles in
diameter” murmured the ship’s as-
trophysicist to the captain. Who
cared about diameters, thought the
as^mbled dozens of men, this is a
hunt strictly for people. “Is there
H detectable atmosphere?”

“Certainly. Give me time for
analysis. Yes, there's a thick at-
mosphere. Oxygen — check. Wait
:i minute — I think I see lights. Sure
enough — they look like the old-
fashioned electrical kind . . . maybe
Iluorescent tubes.”

Soon they were close enough for
direct port views of die Grange
world. Continents and oceans were
swathed in curly wisps and stream-
ers of cloud and the polar .snow
caps glistened in the sun. Tliere
was a dark green sheen of vegeta-
tion on the day side, the dark cres-
cent sparkled with the ixiints of
light, betrayers of the presence of
ubiquitous man.

“Distance please,” demanded
Captain Keyl of the senior astre^a-
tor.

“Les.s than a million miles,” was
the prompt reply.

“Go(^. Hut slow down to drift
speed. Take up an approach spiral.
Let’s look as much as possible like
an ordinary emigrant transport, no

Slf.lLLBn THAN YOTJ THINK

use in scaring the livers right out
of them.”

Almost at once sharp telescopists
hailed the approach of a small ves-
sel induliitably native to the planet
l>cIow. It was hailed again and
^ain as it bore steadily down on
them. It was classed immediately
as a rocket craft of a type obsolete
for centuries of Excelsian history,
useful only for trips to the [^nets,
own satellites. When it had come
to within less than a hundred miles
of them on a long sweeping colli-
sion course, it deigned to answer.

“What ship is that? What ship
is that ? Over to you.”

The radioed message, in a form
and a dialect known only to the an-
cient history of Excelsia, brought
.smiles to many a face. It was prob-
ably one of those numerous iso^ted
backwaters of human settlement
that spotted the civilized parts of
the Galaxy. But it was comforting
to know tliat they liad to deal, not
merely vvitli humans, but with Ei^-
H.sh-speuking humans.

“This is the ship Reunion of the
planet Excelsia. What world is
this ? We wish permission to land.”

“Thi.s world is Rubai, and wel-
come to Rubai. May we come
aboard

“Yes, you may board us. Lights
will outline our air lock for you. Do
^e have your con^nt to ^nd,
then ?”

"I will discuss your landing with
my government at once. Meanwhile
I am maneuvering to board.”

IDuring the wait for the arrival
of the Rubalian pilots there was
plenty of excited discussion among

the assembled scientists and ship’s
officers in the compartment. Grad-
ually the captain selected a welcom-
ing committee from amongst their
number and shepherded them to a
wardroom further down in the ship.
What kind of people might these
Rubalians be? Who, indeed, could
tell what strange breeds and strains
d£ Homo sapiens had come into be-
ing on the thousands of populated
planets up and down the Galaxy,
separated as they were by voyages
of a lifetime in length?

At long last two tali young men
entered through the pressure door
set in the bulkhead. Both were
simply dressed in close-fitting black
knitted clothes, a somber contrast to
the varied gorgeous costumes of the
ship’s company. For a full two min-
utes they faced each other in silence
— the first meeting of two splinters
of humanity, each isolated for
nearly half of a millennium. At
length one of the Rubalians spoke:
“I am Tenant Skuve, of our
World SecuHty Bureau. I welcome
you to our world in sincere friend-
ship. You may have all the food
and other supplies you need. But
1 warn you that ours is an old and
settle<l planet, an<l w^e desire no
more strangers looking for land.”
“W’e are warmed by your wel-
come,” answered the captain, “and
you need not worry about our want-
ing any share in your w'orld. This
is not an emigrant ship. We have
come simply to pay you a visit, one
that will be remembered to the end
of your histor\'.”

"Simply to visit usr But that is

preposterous. Have you come far,
then?”

“Only for six light-years. That
is our own home star that you must
have often seen, since it is closest
of all to yours. And furthermore,
it took us only an hour and a half
to make the journey— I mean in
real, not "Apparent time. This, my
friend, is the dawn of a new day
for the whole human race.”

“Yes, I suppose that it is. Do
you wish to berth close in?”

“We can berth right on the sur-
face of the planet, that is, if you
have enough room near your chief
city. You shall find out that this
is a very remarkable craft.”

When the Reunion had found a
dock near the Rubalian capital city,
a place of no great size by Excelsian
standards, when preliminary intro-
ductions were over, and when tlie
natural first feelings of apprehen-
sion had been stilled; Captain Kcyl
could relax and go sightseeing. The
active management of the expedi-
tion devolved on Dr. Emeri Savon,
the leading Excelsian intellect in
sociopsychology and rdated stud-
ies. He it was, then, who bricfcfl
the crew and the “i>assengers” —
mostly the now useless technicians
who had built the ship — in their
future behavior :

“This is apparently a more re-
tarded culture than ours. We must
avoid giving the natives any feel-
ing of inferiority. Don’t poke fuu..
criticize, or tell them how much
better we do things in Excelsia. Ad-
mire and praise everything that is
pointed out to you.”

ASTOUNDING SCIENCK-FTCTION

Dr. Savon had cause to remem-
l)er his own words. In the next
three days he had to suppress his
impatience with the slow and ar-
chaic Rubalian world. Most of the
citizens of the capital lived in small
individual homes and took some
form of ground transport or just
walked to the scene of their daily
labors. Such labor w'ent on tn small
establishments, each the property
of some man or group of men who
operated it without any regard to
any all-comprehensive scheme for
the planet as a whole. The main
Rubalian occupation after the short,
working day was to gather in their
homes or public places, for they
were admittedly a friendly and gre-
garious race, but only for such un-
rewarding purposes as drinking,
dancing, games or small talk. The
whole question of government could
lie covered in a minute — they had
no idea of it as an exact science be-
longing to experts, but seemed .to
be under the direction of a heredi-
tary ruler whom they called simply
the “Chief”.

Tn comparison with Excelsia,
where evcr}’thing, even the w'eather,
liad beeji put under the control and
supervision of minutely specializing
experts and all integrated .in a
grand master plan, it was down-
right depressing. If tlie word had
been in the doctor’s vocabulary, he
would have called it immoral. But
there was at least one pleasant lit-
tle thought to console him. When
regular communications Avere
opened up, the efficient humor tech-
nicians of Excelsia would have ma-
terial to work over for the next gen-

S.MALLEU Tir.AN TOT THINK

eration. Some sort of production
ceiling might liave to.be put on
Rubalian jokes.

For the time being it was given
out that the Chief, whom no one
but the captain had yet met, was
readying a grand ceremonial recep-
tion for the whole vi.siting horde
in the .government hall. For this he
had to summon all the dignitaries
of the state from unlikely places
and odd rural places all over the
planet, places where he was assured
that these people actually lived, in-
stead of staying ne?ir the seat of
government where they rationally
belonged. Meanwhile all of Sav-
on’s feliow-pas.sengers and most of
the crew were dispersing in all di-
rections, fraternizing to the limit
with the native.s, and even drifting
far from the city. Most of his fel-
low-savants were too absorbed to
even talk to him on his pocket radio,
so in despair he finally advised Cap-
tain Keyl to tell their host that less
than one third of the crew would
attend his banquet, and then wan-
dered out to the local university in
search of such intellectual company
as the place might afford. But here
the expedition’s historian had got
ahead of him and was the center of
all attention. The first settlers of
Rubai, like those of Excelsia, had
come from Earth and Venus by-
way of the Cordova system and
Procyon V, but whereas the Excel-
sians had arrive<I directly from the
latter place, the local founders had
tarried long on the vast and rich
Calydon planet of Sheratan, a place •
of which Excelsia had as yet no
knowledge ; and moreover the Ru-

AST— 2X

balian colonists had seen or heard
many interesting things on the way.
Speculation was traded for specu-
lation : the tide of human settlement
must long ago have overwhelmed
even such faraway systems as Rigel,
Polaris, and Antares. Many a- w-ell-
loaded emigrant ship had stopped
at Rubai, leaving some passengers
and taking on some — the universal
practice everywhere to prevent ex-
cessive inbreeding — and had van-
ished into the unknown on its dec-
ades-long journey — long, that is, to
the watching stars, but reasonably
short to the passengers within.

Savon retunied to his quarters
within the ship and pondered the
Ruballan mentality at length, since
it was the key to his part of the mis-
sion. At last Captain Keyl called
and told him that the Chief had fi-
nally set that night as the time of
their formal reception and hearing.

“Tljere’s something abroad here
and I don’t like it,” he confided to
his superior. “I can't give a solid
instance for being suspicious, but
a little thing here and a little thing
there all may add up to something.
For instance, why have the natives
all exested tlieniselves so to split
up our people and get them into
their homes? Would we behave
tliat way toward a bunch of Ruba-
dians?”

“Of course we wouldn’t; Savon,
but then we’re not Rul)alians.
That’s Just the tribute that an in-
ferior culture pays to the superior.
I thought you were a serious stu-
dent of history, doctor. But just
the same I am not going to neglect
any of the simpler precautions.

Wlien we leave here tonight I am
going to detail a good half of the
crew under Norani as watch officer,
he’s a good fellow in any emer-
gency, even if he is of nontechnical
rank. If we don’t show up in good
shape by sunrise, he’ll want to know
the reason why, and if he can’t
frighten the local powers back into
reason, he'll just go l)ack to Excel- ,
sia and return with the Reunion in
fighting trim. And wlien we step
out of here, he puts up the electronic
harriers. Mind you, [ don’t expect
treachery, but these people could
hardly l)e foolish enough to try any-
thing a.s long as the ship was not in
their hands."

“Very well,” said Savon, much
reassured. “Now let’s see if we
can round up a .sizable group of our
people to appreciate the Chief’s
hospitalit>’.”

Long before the long and lei-
surely meal had come to an end.
Savon had reason to envy those who
had cscjii)cd it. The local half of
it w'as composed of the great men
of Riibalia, who on introduction
proved merely to be the heads of
difTerent associatitms of laborers,
or else reprcsentative.s of the men
who tilled the soil on an individual
and unsupervised kisis, which ap-
peared to be the only system of food
production known to them.

At long last the final toasts had
been drunk and the ultimate senti-
mental allusion to “Dear Mother
Earth, the real home of ns all”
had been made. (How long before
he would really see the Earth, and
what was it like now? ) The Chief,

ASTOUNDINO a^TK^*C•T; FICTION

an elderly man who might liave been
chosen for his Jovclike head and
huge physical proportions, indicated
tlnit their eminent guest, Dr. Emcri
Savon, vice-director of Primary
University and the Supreme l^oard
of Planning and Co-ordination of
the planet Kxcclsia, would favor
them with an address of some
length.

Savon arose and surveyed ins
tirst alien audience. He had looked
forward to this hour for a long
lime.

“(iood hosts, fcllow^-men, kins-
men, for,wc come of common an-
cestors in remote worlds, how many
must be the numbers of us who
work, who invent, who triumph and
who sorrow, all unknown to you and
to me. Wlio can say where now
are the boundaries of the human
race, where and wliat its greatest
achievements arc,' what wonderful
things we cannot share?

“But I get too oratorical. Be pa-
tient for a few minutes while I
sketch for you the j)rocesscs which
have split our race into so many
tiny and unconneclctl fragments.

“Until some eighty generations
ago our species was confined to one
planet, the Earth. Now I know it
is fashionable in 1.»oth our worlds
to wax nostalgic about the place
when w^e are in certain moods ; the
grim tnith, as written in ancient
histories and brought to us through
our ancestors, was that it eventually
came to seem' like a vast prison to
them.

“At the earliest point to which the
memory of the race reaches, 'even
on tliat little world the human so-

HMALliER THAN YOF THINK

ctefy was split up into numerous
little local groups, each ignorant of
tlie other’s existence. Each made
wliat slow prepress it could with
the best minds and the stored ex-
jjevience that it had.

“Then some of the most adven-
turoii.s spirits in the more advanced
local cultures began to look about
and discovered the existence of the
others and so all were gathered rap-
idly into one great community of
civilization all over the planet. Now'
more rapid progress was made, be-
cause the pooled activity of all the
}>cst minds on the planet was in-
comiiarably greater than wliat they
might do separately. But the more
rapid conquest of nature that this
made possible was incorrectly ap-
plied to the prolilems of living — it,
was used, first to increase the popu-
lation of the planet at a rapid rate,
and then to light the battles that
inevitably followed. At length the
numbers of mankind increased to
such an extent that life was less
seaire than ever before, and even
the very exhaustion of the planet's
resources was threatened.

“But for some strange reason
that we cannot now understand,
man simply went on multiplying
and lighting. During this period
the human communal mind suffered
some sort of mental blockade that
made it possible to advance and to
hold any reason for the overcrowd-
ing of the world but the simple fact
of overcrow’ding. Specialists still
argue over the problem, but there
seems to have been a jx)sitive rivalry
among different intellectual groups
or ditl'crent geographical sectors of

the planet to invent any theory
about the common misery and any
solution for it*that would avoid the
right one, which was always fol-
lowed by a forceful attempt to en-
force the theory and solution on the
rest of the community. We may
as well accept the theory that a bald
statement of the problem as sheer
overpopulation would have offended
certain obscure tribal feelings that
were then very powerful. Even
today the people of a newly colo-
nized planet do not feel reasonably
content until they have brought up
their numbers to the density of the
' planet from which they came.

“But finally the crisis fathered
it’s own solution. As a by-product
of the constant struggle, ' not delib-
erately, crude space travel of a type
adequate within the system was de-
veloped. Fortunately that system
contained one other very fine habit-
able planet which man could add
to his habitable space. So the first
two periods of human history, the
long Age of the Isolated Cultures
and the short but eventful Age of
Confusion or Era of the World-
Civilization, came to an end when
the race burst out of the prison that
it’s home planet had finally become.

“For a short time the resources
of two worlds made an interlude of
peace and plenty. But the old tribal
competition to see who could out-
strip the other in sheer numbers
still prevailed, and soon the new
home was as crowded as the old
had ever been. So the old struggles
were revived on a larger and more
dreadful scale.

“But by now man had learne<l
from experience that new worlds,
if he could reach them, were a guar-
anteed answer to his problem. He
had reason to believe that the rest
of the universe consisted of pLane-
tary systems similar to his own.
Therefore a gigantic effort was
made, and a huge part of the eco-
nomic surplus was consumed, in an
effort to develop interstellar flight.

“Finally the so-called zero-zero
transport was invented; the ship
which traveled at just under the
speed of light, but inside of which,
in obedience to natural laws, the
apparent lime of a journey was but
a fraction of the -real time. Some
exploring expeditions were made
with it while the search continued
for a practical faster-than-light
propulsion. But the ijmit of the
inventive resources of two planets
seemed to have been reached ; so
people quite naturally took to the
zero-zero transport to colonize vir-
gin systems and so regain the quiet
and the plenty that they had come
to associate with raw planets. This
method still goes on today.

“Now the final effect of this, as
we all know, was to throw the hu-
man race back to the very first
period of its recorded history, the
Age of Isolated Cultures. Regular
communications could be kept up
only between exceptionally close
systems. To a group which made a
journey of more than twenty light-
years, the voyage seemed very short,
but actually they were a generation
away from their familiar homes
and friends. Besides, emigrant
ships are customarily broken up on

ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

arrival for the materials and ma-
chinery they contain. Likewise, any
scheme of government or commerce
was out of the question, where a
half-century might elapse Ijctween
the dispatch of an order and a re-
ply. Very soon the anxious hordes
of colonizers found that it was not
necessary to await the reports of
age-long exploring expeditions.
Habitable planets w^erc common
enough, all they needed to do was
head outward and select a star of
the correct s)>ectroscopic types,
more than two or three tries were
unnecessary.

“I have already inemioncd the
period of intense rivalry between
«.lifferent human groups during the
period just l>efore the beginning of
iuler.stellar llight, usually arising
from different theories about the
prevalent shortage of the planetary
resources. The zero-zero trans-
|X>rt eliminated such rivalries, since
any group of people who i>assion-
ately espoused any peculiar doc-
trine, whether .social, political, eco-
nomic or a blend of all three; could
somehow obtain one of the trans-
jtorts and hunt U]> some vacant
world that they could organize to
their heart’s desire. If some minor-
ity of these colonists, in turn, did
not agree with their fellows, they
tvould repeat the process by emi-
grating again.

“Then too, there still existed old
tribal differences in the race which
were so profound at that lime that
different languages w^cre spoken
and the folk-customs were still
varied. The less successful of these
tribes could now rid themselves

SMAT.LUR THAN YOU THINK

of the unwelcome conqiany of
others by picking out new worlds .
w'here they could be themselves.
You probably have heard of worlds
where our language is not used.

“So for a number of reasons hu-
man life .spread throughout the sys-
tem faster than mere incrca.se in
mmibers would require, has been
spreading at almost the speed of
light; yet only a very small part of
the Galaxy can yet be overrun. So
now we have some thousands of
worlds, mostly unknown to one
another, all their cultures going in
random directions, and with the old
rajnd scientific progress almost at
a complete standstill. Do I weary
you, your excellency?”

“No, you do not,” answered the
Rubalian ruler, “Of course all of
these things are taught to every
child in our schools; but you have
a wonderfully crisp way of giving
such a long story. Like you, we
liave often wondered what the rest
of the human race was doing, and
how their development compared
with ours. But you have not yet
come to the best part of the tale.
ITow did your people realize the
age-long dream of a ship that could
travel faster than light, and what
has it to do with us r”

“Thank you for your kind at-
tention so far. Now I speak of the
peculiar history of Excelsia. While
our ancestors, who founded the
planet, were not a doctrinaire
group; they were chiefly engineers
and technicians who wished to es-
tablish a world, where every hand
and brain would, be as cfticiently

organized and used as was possible.
In a short time this aim was real-
ized. After about two centuries
they began to thinly that the long-
awaited fastcr-lhaii-light ship was
not going to appear in any part of
the system; and in order to give
the rest of the race the benefits of
our superb technology, we would
have to cap it by building such a
craft ourselves. Of course most of
the experts had said it never could
be done, but we believed that it was
simply that the task was beyond the
means of a single jilanet.

“By now our efficient organiza-
tion liad given us an enormous eco-
nomic surplus which we could di-
vert to this purpose. Hundreds of
thousands of people w^ere born,
schooled, worked, exhausted myri-
ads of false leads in research and
handed the problem down to their
children. Eventually about half of
our adult population was engaged
on this project. Finally vre had un-
locked the secrets of hyperspace
and the ship Reunion, the first of
fleets yet to come, took shape.

“Now I have only to explain to
you your part in the birth of the
faster-than-light ship and the com-
ing of the new civilization. Inas-
much as by now there must be some
thousands of inhabited worlds, it
would take an immensely long time-'
for the new type of transport to be-
come known to all of them. So it
is necessary that the propagation of
this discovery must he carried on
with the same sort of intense effort
that created it. You have the re-
sources here and much of the skilled
labor to* build anotlier ship similar

CO the Reunion. We will give you
all the necessary information, at no
cost to you whatsoever, and also we
will leave here the necessary techni-
cians to oversee its construction and
instruct you in its navigation,*’

At this point Savon paused for
the exi>ected burst o f shouted
thanks and applause but the hall
was embarrassingly quiet. A small
cloud of worry arose in his mind:
either he had misjudged the Ru-
balian psychology, or perhaps they
were too stupid or too polite to take
the cue. So he continued.

“We will exact only one consid-
eration from you in return. When
your craft is complete, you must
search out another inhabited world
and teach them to build such a ship
in your turn. Thus, each world
teaching one, the whole human sec-
tor of the Galaxy will soon possess
the new ships and, the new unified
human culture will be born.”

Dr. Savon sat dowm and there
was a light patter of hand-dapping
about the room, which tapered into
a deep silence when it was seen that
only the Excelsians were in the act.
After a painful interlude the Chief
nodded to an elderly native who
stood and faced Savon.

“Our learned visitor from £x-
celsia has at length told us two
things: one of which we already
know, of the preseflt isolation and
stagnation of the human race; and
one of which is obvious, that his
people have at last invented tlie
ideal faster-than-light ship. But
can he tell us of any happy result.

ASTOUNDING SCIKNCK-FICTION

any positive and total good, that
can come of it?”

The sociologist was thunder-
struck. In his whole lifetime, no
one had ever thought of question-
ing the Great TIe.sign which was the
mainspring ot life for his entire
world. He groped for a reply that
fitted the quc.stioners.

■‘The whole level of human cul-
ture will be raised,” he began. ‘‘The
most backward worlds will be able
to share at once in the progress of
the more advanced ones.” No, that

wasn’t the right thing to say, that
was reminding them that they w’ere
a most backward world ; he must
get a grip on himself and continue.
“We don’t know, for one thing,
what is going on around the fringes
of civilization. We get vague and
roundabout stories that fi'om time
to time contact has been made with
intelligent but nonhuman races.
With the absence of control over
Ihe behavior of men away from
their home planets, such contacts
liave usually ended in a typically

human way, that is, the nonhuinaiis
have been looted, dispossessed and
enslaved. So far, so good, while
the alien races in question are in-
ferior, or at least weaker, than man.
But when may we brush up against
a stronger one? Some fine day we
may find a tide of extermination
rolling over all of us because some
lot of moronic adventurers have
pricked the skin of a superior cul-
ture. I do not need to mention the
purely moral evil of this, but some
sort of central authority should stop
it.. And need I trouble to speak to
as intelligent a people as you of the
benefits of trade? Of fast com-
munications, of being able to see
and receive word from the colonists
whom in the future you may send
across space? What of those of you
who are intellectuals, can you re-
sist the hunger to explore, to learn
more about the many-colored
branches and varied cultures that
our civilization must have in thou-
sands of systems? That alone
should make our work worth while.
However, I should like to hear any
specific objections that you may still
have.”

The old fellow who was evidently
the native spokesman had remained
standing meanwhile and began to
reply in a slow' and dignified
manner.

“Our visitors show that they have
a thorough knowledge of the his-
tory of our race back even to the
days when it was confined to but
one planet of one system. It is
good that we should stiU remember
and still think about those times,
because it is the only trustworthy

guide vrt have when we try to fore-
see the shape of things yet to come.

“At first som^e good things may
flow from widespread travel and
commerce throughout the system,
though I admit I am a little curious
as to what the merchants may adopt
as money. In my own lifetime I
would expect nothing but benefits
from your invention. But man is
still man, and from his past record
we may expect other results.

“Yon speak of a universal gov-
ernniem which will repress the loot-
ing of weaker races and perhaps
attempt to do otlier necessary
things. This would be nice, but
how is such an authority to arise?
From history we know that it can
be in but one of two ways; either
there must be voluntary union un-
der some very real and threatening
danger from the outside, by which
time it may be too late; or else one
community more determined and
more powerful than the others will
subject all of them to its tyrannical
rule. This last is much the more
likely, and you are offering any such
conquerors as may be, just the one
implement they need for a plan of
universal conquest. Recollect, if
you know the past so well, that
every new invention which widened
the range of travel — the sailing
ship, the steamship, the airplane, or
spaceships, finally only increased
the space over which wars could
be \V2^ed. In time there even came
to be fighting between colonists on
Venus and their mother planet.
Only in the lifetime distances that
separate system from system today
had absolute peace finally been

ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

found. >^ow there is no reward in
the conquest of weaker worlds by
the stronger, for what tyrant can
live so long, as to see the tribute
Ijrought to his feet?”

‘■JS'either can your new^ ship stop,
any worrying about hostile contact
with some superior race of beings,
and I admit that is a possilde dan-
ger. We may be pi'etty sure that
no such race exists in the closer
regions of the Galaxy, that is, with-
in the area that human settlement
will overrun in the next few thou-
sand years, because if they did we
would have met them already. And
w here do your profoundcst think-
ers, like ours, suppose that such a
.race is most likely to be found ?
Why in the older systems nearer the
center of the Galaxy, where no
/ero-zero ships are going to pene-
trate for at least fifty millenniums
as yet. But you would have us run
headlong into them at once, before
we arc nearly equal to them in mun-
l)crs or in technology.

"Xow what is the present utility
of the zero-zero transport? It ex-
ists chiefly to provide escape for the
more adventurous ^lenizens of o\’er-
cro.wded planets. That pTirpose it
Alls as admirably as would your
ship. Today !tny shipload of emi-
grants knows that space is strewn
with desirable but unpopulated
worlds, and they can find and settle
one without hindrance if they but
tind ir. 15ut what will be tlie situa-
tion when your spaceship comes into
general use ? A greedy and ambi-
tious gang of men can become the
owners of a whole world, yes, of
dozens of worlds, simply by reach-

S.MALLBR rn.4>i YOU THiS'K

ing them first. At once the whole
universe would become property,
and the Galaxy would be full of
wandering land-hungry colonists
and bitter battles over foggy claims.
I could think of many other objec-
tions, but I think I have outlined
our state of mind. AVe do not as
yet wish to possess or use your fine
new spaceship, much as it grieves
us to disappoint vou in your truly
fine and generous enthusiasm.
With many thanks, wc decline.”

The ancient one sat down. .Savon
and all his compatriots for the
nonce were frozen to their chairs
by this unexpected rebuff. At last
tlie captain found his feet and his
voice.

‘‘Your excellency,” he croaked,
“is this the final decision of your
government, of your people?”

‘‘It is so.”

‘‘Then/’ roared the spaceman,
‘‘We shall leave here at once and
try the people of another world.
.\nd wherever wc go, we shall leave
word that your planet does not care
to be molested by outsiders.'’

“It will not be as simple as all
that,” replied the Chief. “To put
it bluntly, you will remain here and
so will your ship, and you shall
stay forever. It would do us no
good to let you go and alter the
shape of things in the rest of the
universe. Nor would tlicre be much
conviction in the views that we
hold, if we did not do everything
in our power to stop you. But you
are not entirely prisoners, all your
lives you will be free to come and

go, and ha\e e\cry liberty of a
citizen of Rubai.”

The captain had been raised to
his rather low boiling point. “Stop
us, would you? Sure you can, for
about five hours. But it so hap-
pens that I considered something
like this piece of treacher\'^ and
so we left a strong guard on the
ship. The electronic barrier is up,
and you can’t get^ through it, and if
we aren’t safe on board in the morn-
ing, they’ll simply go back home
and fit out a raid that will bring
you to your senses. So you better
think twice 1”

“Oh yes, the ship,” mused the
native ruler. “That thing. Well,
we are neither a stupid nor a cow-
ardly people, and there are some’
interesting plans we had worked
out in case our main method failed.
By the way, do you recognize this
man?”

The captain turned about and was
confronted by Noraiii, the watch
officer. But he was smiling into
the eyes of the Chief,

“Everything is under control on
the ship, your excellency. The bar-
rier is now down.”

“What about the rest of your
watch ?”

“They’ll sleep heartily until
morning, but somebody had better
carry them out of it right now. I
just put a little sedative in. the tea
um.”

“What in the Magellante' Clouds
is all this about piped the angry
Excelsian captain.

“Sit down,” commanded the
Chief. . “There is quite a lot to ex-

plain. And we wish to drop our
mask of innocent surprise, our airs
of naive wonder at the miraculous
Excelsians and their ship. Such
poses are not becoming to us.

“You see, about three centuries
ago an emigrant ship from the Al-
tair system came and circled about
our world. They had a strange tale
to tell us, a story of a planet they
had just visited where all the suT-
plus energy of the people was being
given to a single monstrous pur-
4:»ose — the invention of a ship that
would travel faster than light. They
were very angry, too, for some of
their best technicians had been lurctl
away from them at tliat world with
promises of rich rewards. Without
those very necessary technicians
they did not fee! that they could
successfully go on and establish a
colony. So they stayed, in fact,
some of them were iny ancestors,
and the ancestors of Noram, for
like others of your people, he is one
of ours.

“For generations our whole so
ciety discussed the pro and the con
of your project and finally we came
to about. the saflie state of mind
tltat we have tried to explain to yoti
tonight. The next thing -was to
consider some way of' stopping it.
Our first step was keeping you un-
der constant observation. A zero-
zero ship could make the journey
to Excclsia and hack in about twelve
years, sending our operators to the
planet itself in small rocket craft
while it remained outside the detec-
tor range. Each trip some stayed
and worked their way into your so-
astounding SCIENCE-FICTION

ciety aiul even into your project .
wliile others returned home to re-
port and to receive our thanks. We
had men who were willing to devote
the best years of their lives to this.
Thus we knew w'hen you had hnally
achieved success, and also learned
(T your determination to visit our
world first of all, which we liad
always ho^d, seeing that we were
your closest neighbors in space.

^‘This is a hard thing for us to
do, and a hard thing for you to take,

1 almost wish you had come to us
as murdering pirates or even as
grasping tradesmen, instead of the
honest and confiding souls that you
are. But our decision stands.”

“But you can't keep our people
at home from building another
ship!” bellowed the captain.

“Certainly there is going to he
another ship. Seeing that all your
ablest technicians are being held
here, it is going to take a long time.
Ihit we will be watching that one,
too. Most likely it will come here,
also, filleti with curiosity about the
fate of the missing first expedition.
Tf it goes elsewhere, we shall inter-
cept it, for now we have the first
model.

■‘Meanwhile, we recognize that
lou have, a right to some of your
fears. We mean to carry on a re-
connaissance of space for some dis-
tance around the fringe of civiliza-
tion, just in case there is some dan-
ger there. Then your ship will be
safely stored away. Some day man-
kind may have urgent need of it,

TJIE

S-MALl.KK THAN YOU THINK

perhaps some day he may conceiva-
bly be ready for it.

“1 imagine we may be damned
through all eternity as narrow ene-
mies of progress. But we have here
too vivid a memory of the past of
our race, of the days when man’s
inventiveness too far outstripped
individual self-control. Civiliza-
tion is assured of comfort and se-
curity, what it needs most now is a
long rest.”

“They haven’t licked me yet,” .
grumbled the captain to the ashen-
faced Savon in an undertone. “I’ll
be the loudest voice they ever had
on this planet. I’ll outshout the
whole nine hundred million of
them. I've changed people’s minds
liefore. You’re going to help me,
aren’t you ? It’s more in your
line.”

“Yes, I suppose I have to,” said
the doctor. “But there is some hope
in psychology. They can’t all be
so high-minded and noble here more
than anywhere else. That ship
equals power unlimited for anybody
who lays his hands on it, and there
are going to he a lot of itching
Imnds on Rubai from now on and
forevermore.”

“Don’t bank on it much, doctor.
They seem like a pretty determined
Imnch to me. And don’t tell me
they aren’t clever in their way!”

“Somehow 1 don’t feci like argu-
ing wfth them any more just now.
We worked all our lives on a faster
means of getting around the uni-
verse. But I guess the universe is
just a bit .smaller than you think !”

END

DAWN OF NOTHING

BY A. BERTRAM CHANBLER

The Great God AliP was a little understood
diety. But it was a time of little understanding,
save in one house where the old teas studied.

Illustrated by Cartier

Perhaps it was the wind that de-
flected the arrow ever so slightly.
Perliaps it was that old Maluph,
Master Fletcher to the People of
Bart» had let his craftsman's hand
shake a little in the fashioning of
this one shaft. Perhap.s it was that
Enery, Bart’s chief huntsman, had
taken aim and let fly too hastily.

But Enery himself had another
explanation. He was to blame — but
his culpability was more than a mere
matter of aim too quickly and care-
lessly taken, of bow insufficiently
bent. He was to blame because, last
night, he had deliberately neglected
the worship of ARP. And ARP the
Watchful, ARP the All-Seeing, had
overlooked neither the slight nor the
quarrel between Enery and Pardi,
Hereditary Warden of the God, that
had preceded it. He had watched,
with divine disapproval, the deliber-
ate abstention from the propitiatory
rites of the Shielded Light, the
Extii^^ished Fire. And so ARP,
Guider of the Missile, had signified

his . extreme displeasure by with-
drawing his benlgiv influence from
the feathered sliafts in Enery's
quiver.

The stag, a short length of arrow
protruding from its flank, sprang
high into the air. The hunter hastily
snatched another arrow from his
quiver, fitted notch to bowspring,
drew back swiftly to hi.s right ear.
But he was too late. Scarcely had
the animal’s feet touched earth be-
fore it had bolted into the forest.
The sound of its passage through
the undergrowth diminished, faded
fast, as trees and shrubs and bushes
were interposed between the hunter
and his quarry.

Enery retunied tlie arrow to his
quiver, slung the long six-foot bow
over his shoulder. His right hand
went dowm to the kni fe in the sheath
at his right side. His thigh muscles
tensed as he fell into the runner’s
crouch, started to follow the stag.
Then he remembered.

‘‘Great ARP, your pardon,” he

ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

muttered. And. standing alone in face, clapped them sharply five
the sunlit field at the forest’s verge, times. And, his face passive, he
he went through the daylight ritual, thought: But zi'hy, oh ARP, must
Through ringed thumbs and fore- your wardens ahvays be such foblsf
finger.s he stared solemnly at the Take to yourself men and' we zvill
cloudless sky. Still looking up, he respect them and respect you all the
brought his hands down from his more . . .

DAWN or NOTHING

He was careful to keep his beard-
ed lips motionless. ARP sees all,
hears all, but the thoughts of men
are a mystery to him. Thus it was
that the Ancients fell.

Enerj^ having slipped with prac-
tised ease -through the brief rites,
took up the chase. The trail was
easy to follow. The stag had been
bleeding copiously. ARP or no
ARP the arrow could not have
been badly aimed. The hunter
found himself regretting the time
that he had wasted at the forest
edge. As he ran lie remembered his
bitter argument with Pardi, the war-
den— the quarrel during which he
^ad asserted that ARP was a fit God
for v/omen and children and fat,
priestly men, but no deity for the
warrior or the hunter. He would
never have gone so far had he , not
been sure that the grizzled Bart
secretly agreed with him. Bart, as
Chief, would find it impolitic to
challenge the theocratic power so in-
timately bound up with his own, lest,
by so doing, he weaken his own au-
thority. He had no objections
should others do so. He had even
been known to protect heretics from
the wrath of the followers of ARP
^his protection consisting of a plea
for tolerance, the invocation of the
vague yet universally respected
principle known as the Magnic
Charter. And if the heretic had
been, like Enery, a strong man
armed, his heresy had gone unpun-
ished.

-It was a pity that most of such
heretics had been married men
whose wives had bleated tearfully
for a return to the flock of Pardi.

A briar tendril airled around the
hunter’s ankle, brought him crash-
ing heavily down. Luckily for him
the bushes broke his fall. He
scrambled to his feet, bleeding from
a score , of scratches — his scanty
summer garment of light skins was
not much protection — carefully dis-
entangled the string of his l)Ow
from the sharp thorns. He was al-
most decided to leave it there — here,
with the trees close together and
but a narrow passage through the
bushes left by the wounded stag, it
was a serious encumbrance. But
he did not want to lose 'it. There
were things in the woods — some
said it was the wild dogs, but why
should they do anything so point-
less ?— that carried off for their own
purposes any man-fashioned stick.

So he pushed on, hampered by
the long bow, alert for the frequent
bright splashes on leaf and mossy
ground. The trail was growing old.
xA.lready great fat-bodied flies were
feasting on the spilled blood, rising
with resentful buzz at his approach,
falling back again to their meal
after his passing. But he dare not
hurry. Even should he keep his re-
bellious mind .from straying froin
the business on hand, he dare not
hurry. A broken leg, a seriously
twisted ankle, could well mean his
death. By day there were the packs
of dogs — although they, as a rule,
preferred more open country-. And
both by day and night there were
the tree cats. If he failed to return
from this expedition, then Pardi,
surely, would attribute his disap-
pearance to the wrath of ARP.

Come orf it! he thought in the

ASTOUNDING SC I K N CK -F I CT ION

vernacular of his people, liven if
the warden is sweet on young Lisa
there ain't no need ter think abaht-
it orl the time, ter let it put yer orf
yer stroke. The main thing is ter
get that ruddy stag afore them rud-
dy cats gets 'im first!

Doggedly, he pushed on. The
trail became fresher again. There
were gouts of blood tliat liad not
l>een found by the carrion flies.
There were bruised^ and broken
.stems with the sap still oozing from
the fractured ends. And there was,
faint but growing louder, the sound
of a heavy l>ody forcing its way
through the forest.

And this sound suddenly ceased.

Enery drew his knife. He
jaished on 1>oldly, perhaps a little
carelessly. He noticed that the un-
dergrowth was thinning, that the
trees were now sparsely spaced and
.somehow sickly. But he failed to
draw the obvious conclusion.

The dNittlling of the Ancients
tliat had once stood there liad long
vanished. Perhaps the failure of
ARP's protection had let it be swept
away like a dead leaf before a gale.
Perhaps the infinitely slow, infi-
nitely ruthless strength of growing
things had leveled its walls over the
course of centuries. But although
the building itself was gone, the
artificial caverns beneath it re-
mained. And into these, following
his quarry, fell the hunter-

It was dark when he recovered
consciousness.

In his nostrils w'as the scent of
death, of once hot blood gone cold
and stale. Beneath him was somc-

•thing soft yet firm, the carcass of
the stag. His exploratory hand
, touched the antlered head. He was
briefly thankful that he liad not
falicn on to tliosc branching, dan-
gerous weapon.s.

Right above him was a patch of
jxile light. Silhouetted against it
were the "leafy branches of trees,
among which glimmered a few dim
stars. And there was somethii^
scrambling in the aperture, some-
thing that uttered a low mewling
sound.

The hunter fumbled in his pouch'.
He pulled out his flint and steel.
He smote the crude wheel with the
palm of his hand. In the light of
the si>arks the green eyes of the big
cat in the opening glowed balefully.
Enery could see no more than a
dim outline — but he sensed that it
was tensed for a spring.

But the tow caught. It smoldered
at first and then, after more than a
little blowing on the part of the fire-
maker, burst into flickering flame.
.The hunter thrust up his crude,
feeble torch. He was just in time.
The big cat snarled, showing its,
sharp white teeth. It slashed out
and down with a razor-clawed fore
paw. It Iiit the torch, sent scatter-
ing a shower of sparks, but did not
extinguish the (lame. It snarled
again — and there was something of
a scream in the ugly sound. There
was a frantic scrabbling of the
three uninjured paws as it backed
away from the hole. And only, a
stink of burned fur remained.

“May ARP let ytm be smitten,
you mucking, dirty swine V’ shouted
Enery. He jumped down from the

DiWX OF NO'r^HINO

carcass of the stag, landed, with a
loud crackling, in a pile of dry de-
bris. He tried to drag the stag away
from under the opening, but it was
too heavy. It was a pity. It m^nt
that much good meat would be
spoiled.

Working fast — for he heard the
cats prowling and crying to each
other overhead — he' piled the debris
high on the body of the animal. He
smote his wheel again with the palm
of his hand. This time the tow
,, caught fast and easily. He blew
upon the glowing smolder until he
had a flame. This he applied to
the bonfire that he had built bn top
of the dead stag. It roared and
crackled into flaming life. The
smoke and flames rushed up through
the opening. A draft of colder air
came in from somewhere, replac-
ing that lost by convection. There
was no danger of suffocation — and
the night-prowling cats would never
dare a leap down through the blaze.

Enery grinned. He was safe for
the night. The smell of roasting
venison was savory in his nostrils —
he hoped that it would be equally
savory in the nostrils of his enemies.
He drew his knife and hacked for
himself a large steak, impaled it on
a long, pointed stick. He sat down,
the meat extended to the fire on the
improvised fork, and waited for his
supper to cook.

It was not until he was eating it,
scwne minutes later, that the stench
of burning meat drove him away
from the fire, prodded him into an
investigation of the place into which
he had fallen.

It must have been used as a store-
room of some kirid. There were
boxes — or what was left of them —
all packed with sheet after sheet of
flimsy fabric. Unlike some of the
material left — and found now and
again by lucky discoverers — by the
Ancients, it was useless for clothing
or any kindred purpose. It was dry
and brittle and tore easily. It had
been disturbed by rats and other
small beasts who had shredded it
and carried it away to their nests.
And in one or two of the boxes
the rats themselves had nested. But
it burned. Useless it was for any-
thing but that. It burned well.

Enery was disappointed. He had
known others who had made simi-
lar finds, who had stumbled upon
storehouses of all kinds of useful
tools and w'eapons. He stood there
in the light of his -flaring fire, tear-
ing with his teeth at the hunk of
meat held in his right hand, hold-
ing a sheet of the useless fabric in
his left. He looked at it contemptu-
ously, Its yellowed surface was
marred with little black marks. It
was neither useful nor ornamental.
He screwed it into a tight ball and
cast it on to the fire.

But there must, he told himself,
be something of value stored here.
He lifted one of the boxes, intend-
ing to tip it over and spill its con-
tents on the floor. But the sides
burst as he was starting- to do so.
And in the box were still more of
the sheets of fabric — but these were
themselves boxed in a binding of
some stiffer material. He opened
them, looked through them with in-
tolerant ignorance. There was one

ASTOUNDING SCIBNCB-PICTION

that ai^aled to him. It had pic-
tures in addition to the -meaningless
littU black marks — ^pictures such as
William, the artist, could never
hoi» to equal. There were men
there, strangely clad and bearded.
And there were women, attired as
strangely as the men or naked, and
with a slender grace that had passed,
from the world with the passing
of the Ancients. The little black
marks may have been meaningless
to the hunter, but the pictures
stirred something deep and lost in
his nature, were magic casements
opening wide on fairy lands far be-
yond his limited ken.

Hastily, almost ' surreptitiously,
he‘ stuffed the little box into the
pouch at his belt.

There were other little boxes
with pictures in them. But these
were ugly, meaningless. They w'ere
no more than lines and circles — and
the clearest of them seemed to be
depictions of fantastic and grace-
less constructions. But they might,
Enery decided, have some value or
interest. He would take them to
Bart. Even though the stag was lost
—or most -of it — he would not re-
turn entirely empty handed.

He slept a little thet^ stretched
out on a bed m^fde of the pieces of
flimsy fabric piled high in a rec-
tangular pile. It was not too un-
comfortable. And it was almost his
last sleep. He was awakened by a
spasm of violent coughing. His
smarting, smoke-filled eyes opened
on what, at first, seemed to be the
Hell promised for all those who
did not follow ARP. The cavern
was filled with a ruddy glare, witli

scorchit^ h^t. The flam^ had
spread from the Are to . the dry
debris with which the floor was lit-
tered.

Enery staggered to his feet. He
forgot the little boxes of fabric
that he had intended to take out
with himj that lay beside his bed,
soon to be consumed by the hun-
gry flames. He remembered his
bow that, as always, had been be-
side him as he slept. He snatched
it up. And, more by instinct than
by conscious volition, he turned his
face to the indraught of cold air,
started to stumble in the direction
from which it was coming.

The heat of the fire was fierce
on his back when he found the
door. It was of thick timber, bound
with metal. Long ago, when the,
Ancients had made it, it had been
strong. . Now it was rotten, yielded
at the first, preliminary nudge of
the hunter’s shoulder. And Enery
fell out on to the dew-wet grass,
used his last reserves of energy to
crawl away from the tongues of
fire that licked out after him.

And it was daylight, and the dan-
ger from the cats^although still to
be reckoned with — was greatly less-
ened.

After a short rest the hunter be-
gan his trudge back to the villj^e
of Bart.

. "And wot*s this I ’ear?” demand-
ed the chief. “My best ’unter back
from the chase wiv nuffin’? I tell
yer, Enery, it won’t do!’*

Enery looked back at his master.
He looked at the little eyes, h^f
hidden by the grizzled tangle of hair

DAWN OF NOTHING

and .l)eard. He thought that he de-
tected a twinkle, belying the sever-
ity of the chief’s tone.

“Sorry, guv’ner,” he said. “I got
a stag — ^a big ’un^ — but ’e fell into
one o’ them old caves wot the Old
’Uns used ter make. Aht in the
woods, it was. I’d chased ’ini for
miles, too, follered ’is trail, like.
’E was bleedin’ ’cavy, see? An’ I
was a bit careless like, an’ fell in
arter ’im an’ laid myself aht. An’
when I come round the ’ole wood
was alive wiv bleedin’ cats. So I ’ad
ter light a fire, see? An’ the ole
stag . . . well, ’e got burned up.”

Pardi interrupted. He was stand-
ing beside tlie chief. At the .sound
of the high-pitched, womanish voice
Enery looked at tlic \\-arden with
disfavor.

“Thus it is,” cried Pardi, "wiv
those ’o don’t sliow ARP ’is .iiroper
respects. ’E don’t guide their ar-
rers, 'E don’t, ’li don’t put out
the fire for ’em— not ’im ! R'ot even
when the fire is a-biiming up food
for the chief’s own table. ’E don’t
never forget the unlielievcrs. ’E
lets ’em come ’omc empty-'anded •
an’ larfs.”

“Empty-’anded, is it. yer little,
sawed-off nint?” demanded the
hunter. “Knipty-’anded my left
foot! Look, guv 'ner! I found this
for yer I I brought it back for yer !”

He fumbled in liis pouch, fetched
out the little box. Curious, Part
took it, and his big, clumsy seem-
ing liands handled it with reverent
care.

“A book,” he said. “One o’ them
books wot the Old ’Uns made.” He
opened it, leafed through it. “An’

pieshers!” he cried. “Reel pieshers!
I must show young William this.
’E carn’t do nuffin like itl” The
aeep-set eyes behind the gray, mat-
ted hair gleamed lecherously.

“Lemme see! Lemine seel”
clamored J^ardi, standing on tiptoe
to peer over the chief’s shoulder.

■‘Garni Yer dirty old man!”
growled Bart. “This ain’t for the
likes o’ you. Yer knows as ’ow the
wardens ’as got ter be pure in mind
an’ body !”

“That ain’t nuffin ter do wiv itj
This book should be put among the
uvver treasures of ARP, for Ts
safe keeping.”

“So the warden of ARP can feast
’is dirty old eyes on it yer mean. No,
Pardi, you ain’t gettin’ it. An’ 1
ain’t kcepin’ it— more’s the pity.
This ’ere book is goin’ on a long
trip termorrer — it’s, ’igh time that I
called on them two Mack brothers.
They’re fair batty over things like
this, the pair of ’em. An’ since my
own smith can’t turn out a decent
pot or kettle to save ’is life — then
your pore old chief ’as got ter go
out of ’is own country to barter for
'em.

“You can go,” he concluded.
“No, not you, Enery. You stays
’ere an’ ’as a sup o’ beer along o’
me. An’ we’ll look at these ’ere
pieshers while we ’as the chance.”

Two days’ riding it w'as to the
Village of Mack. Two days, that
i.s, provided that all went well.

But the rarely used road was in
a shocking condition, and all its
inequalities had been baked hard by
the late summer sun. This did not

ASTOTINDINO .SC IKXCE -FICTION

delay the dozen young men— led
by Enery— of Bart’s mounted body-
guard. They could have made the
journey in half the time, but the
speed of the party was, of neces-
sity, slowed to the pace of the chief’s
gaudily painted caravan. He was
an old man, he was fond of saying,
and liked taking his comforts ■with
him. It would have been better
if his blacksmith, and not his
youngest wife, had been on the
list of comforts. For the rear axle
of the cumbersome vehicle broke,
and it took Enery and his com-
panions all of six sweating hours to
effect crude and temporary repairs.

The first night they camped by
the roadside, several miles short
of the Village of I.es, in which
settlement they should have spent
the night. And nobody got much
sleep. One of the rare nocturnal
packs of hunting dogs was on the
prowl and laid siege to the encamp-
ment. With a fire, and with twelve
armed men, there was little danger.
But there was no rest.

At the Village of Les there was
a brief halt for gossip and refresh-
ment, for the proper repair of the
broken axle by Les’ smith. And
Les and Bart had to waste an hour
or so in gloating over the* pictures
in the book.

Perhaps Bart would have stayed
there the night, but the other chief
obviously desired the- trophy that
Enery had brought back from the
cavern of the Ancients. He was
offering quite fantastically high
prices in fowls and e^s — both of
which commodities Bart had in
abundance in his own country. And

the name of Les and his people was
a byword for thievery and all kinds^
of dishonesty. So Bart, at last,'
gave the order to push on.

Again they would have camped
by the road. But tloe Romans were
out — a war party of at le^ twenty
bucks. Enery saw the dust raised
by their ponies’ hoofs whilst they
were still miles distant. And when
they came sweeping across the un-
dulating plain, at right angl^ to the
road, the hunter- and his men were
ready for them. Some — together
with Bart and his wife — had taken
cover in a clump of ti^s. Others
were hiding behind the caravan. As
soon as the raiders came within
range they were greeted with a
shower of arrows. A lucky shot —
an’ I didn’t pray to Mr. Bleedin’
ARP neither, thought hmery — took
their leader in the throat. He fell
from his pony, and the animal came
to an abrupt standstill,, stood nuz-
zling the body of its-late master.,

“ 'Old yer fire !” shouted Bart to
his men. “Don’t rile them baskets
any more. Let ’em take their chief
away an’ they won’t be back till
they’ve picked a new ’unt”

And it was so,

And Bart decided, wdsely, to keep
moving, as fast as possible. To ar-
rive at the Village of the Mack
Brothers in the early hours of the
morning was better than not-to ar-
rive at all.

The village, save for the. watch,
seemed to be sleeping when the little
procession creaked and plodded up
the one narrow street. The thatched
roofs on either side were humped

DAWir OF NOTHING

dark and ominous against the stars.
And there were those in the body-
guard who remembered, with a
superstitious shudder, that neither
Mack the Elder nor Mack the
Younger followed ARP, that they
had long held the reputation of
being sorcerers. This, in itself, jvas
. nothing — but it was said that the
Mack sorceries worked.

Halfway up the street, standing on
a slight eminence, was a house larger
than the others. .And there was
someone awake in this house — some-
one awake and working. Light
streamed through the crevices of
a shuttered window, and there was
, the sound of metal beating on metal.

Old Bart, perched high on the
driving seat of his caravan, gave
the order to halt. He threw down
the reins, and they were caught by
one of the bodyguard who had al-
ready dismounted. He clambered
down from his seat.

“They’re up yet,” he growled.

Slowly, ponderously, he stumped
to the door of the house. He ham-
mered upon it authoritatively.
Somebody — a small, thin silhouette
against the light from within —
opened it.

“Bart.” said the chief. “Bart,
Leader of the People of Bart, to
pay ’is respects to Old Mack an’
Young Mack, Chieftains o’ the
People o’ Mack.”

The figure in the door turned,
shouted back to the interior of the
house: “It’s Bart, father !”

“This' is an odd time to come
a visiting!” replied a deep male
voice. “All right, Beth, Ask ’im
inr

“But he’s got about half a hun-
dred men wi’ him !”-

“They, can’t come in. Leave ’em
to find some place to sleep.”

“Orl right,” growled Bart. “Orl
of yer find some place ter kip — an’
don’t let me find any of yer in my
caravan! ’Op it!”

As the huntsman turned to go
the chief called him back.

“No, Enery. You stay wiv me.
’Ave yer got the book?”

“No, guv’ner. Y’ou ’ave.”

“So I ’ave. An’ you’d better leave
yer bow an' arrers outsidc—^these
’ere Mack chief^are rather fussy.”
It was light inside tiie House of
Mack — so much so that the two visi-
tors blinked, dazzled. Here were
no crude, tallow candles such as lit
the homes in their own village,
d'here were, instead, lamps of brass,
the flame shaded with a shield of
translucent horn.

Enery looked at the girl who
had let them in. Slight she was,
red haired and freckled, with sea
green eyes. She was tall, too — far
above the average. With her the
dumpy womenfolk of the People of
Bart compared most unfavorably.
She was like — he searched his mind
for a simile — she was like the
women in the pictures in the book.

Gravely, she returned his stare.
Then she turned abruptly. She led
the two men along a short passage,
opened a door leading into a large
room. She motioned them in.

It was a strange room. It was
half study— although the word had
long since passed out of use — and
half workshop. There were shelves
along two of the walls, and on them

•4

ASTOUNDING SCIBNCE-PICTIOK

were rows of the little boxes of
fabric called books. And in one
.corner of the room there was a
forge, and an anvil. At this Young
Mack working, beating away
at a piece of metal.

Old Mack — his silvery hair clean,
his lined face shaven — advanced,
with outstretched- hand, to greet
them. His pale gray eyes were
friendly and it seemed to Enery
that he treated Bart with an affec-
tionate respect.

“Well,” he said, “an’ what can
I do for ye ?”

“I’ve a present for yer. Mack —
and an ’ard enough time I ’ad
bringing it! Mind you,” continued
Bart hastily, “even though it is a
present I shouldn’t say no to a few
o’ yer brother’s good pots and pans
in return.” /

“An’ let’s see your present first,
Bart.” ■

“ ’Ere!^’

Old Mack took the little box of
fabric.

“Anither book !” he breathed.

“Booki'” barked Young Mack.
Black haired, swarthy, sweating
from his fire, lie came to look. He
looked over his brother’s shoulder.
Then he spat disgustedly. “More o’
yon muck!” was all that he said.
He went back to his workbench,
busied with what looked like a sort
of water wheel with metal blades.

“Wot does it say?” demanded
Bart. “Wot does it say?”

“ ’Tis a song. ’Tis one o’ the
songs of Ancients. Ay, ’tis strange
stuff— but not wi’out its ane beauty.

THE

Di^WN OP NOTHING

But even I canna fathom what yon
man who wrote it was driving at.”
At his bench Young Mack was
pouring water from a jug into a
polished copper cylinder. He
screwed home the cap of this cylin-
der. The girl Beth was beginning
to take down the shutters from the
windows. Enery was helping her.

“Ay, an’ the pictures,” went on
Old Mack. “ ’Tis a bonny wee
book, friend Bart, an’ Ah’ll see
what ma brither has tae gi’e ye.”
“An ye’re barterin’ ma guid pots
an’ pans for yon trash?” demanded
the man at the workbench.

“It is getting light. Unde,” said
Beth from the window. .

“Never mind that. Fetch me fire,
girl, tae put under ma wee boiler !”
“But wot does it say. Old Mack?”
demanded Bart. “Wot does it say?
If it is a song, carn’t yer sing it?”
There was a pau.se, a silence,
broken only by the faint hiss of
escaping steam. The pale light -of
early morning streamed through the
windows,

“ ’Tis not that kind o’ song, Bart.”
The old man began to mumble.
All that his hearers got w’as a sense
of rhythm. He was reading for
himself alone. Then, freakishly, his
voice came loud and clear.

“The Stars are fading, and the
Caravan

Starts for the Dawn of Noth-
ing . .

“Hurry! shouted Young Mack.
“More fire! Quick!”

A jet of steam impinging on its
blades, the little wheel was revolving
rapidly.

END

THE MONSTER

BV A. E.VAH VOGT

Rising the Monster from the dust of a dead planet
proved a dangerously one-xvay affair. They could
raise him, but laying that ghost leasriH so simple —

Illustrated by Cartier

The gfreat .ship poised a quarter weeds. Several skeletons lay in the
of a mile above one of the cities, tail gras.s beside the rakisl\ build-
llelow was a cosmic desolation. As ing. They were of long, tvvo-leggccl,
he floated down in his energy bub- two-armed beings with the skulls in
hie, Enash saw that the buildings each case mounted at the end of a
were crumbling with age. thin spine. The skeletons, all of

'“'No sign of war damage 1” The adults, seemed in excellent preser-
bodiless voice touched his cars mo- vation, but when he bent down and
mentaril}'. Eiiash tuned it out. touched one, a whole section of it

On the ground he collapsed his crumbled into a fine powder. As he
bubble. He found himself in a .straightened, he saw that Voal. was
walled indosure overgrovyn with floating down nearby. Enash waited

ASTOUNDING SriK.VAlK-Pl l!T TON

till the historian;^d- stepped out of
his bubble, then Ce said :

“Do yop think ' we ought to use
our method o£ reviving the long
dead?”

Yoal was thoughtful, “I have
been asking ques^ons of the vari-
ous people who have landed, and
there is something wrong here. This
planet has no surviving life, not
even insect life.. We’ll have to find
out what happened before we risk ,
any colonization.^- .

Enash said ndt)iing. A soft wind
was blowing. It rustled through a
clump of trees Inearby. He mo-
tioned towards the, trees. Yoal
nodded and said :

“Yes, the plant life has not been
harmed, but plants after all are not
affected in the same way as the ac-
tive life forms.”

There was an interruption. A
voice spoke from Yoal’s receiver:
“A museum has been found at ap-
proximately the center of the city.
A red light has been fixed to the
roof.”

Enash said : ‘T’il go with you,
Yoal. There might be skeletons of
animals and of the intelligent being
in various stages of his evolution.
You didn’t answer my question:
Are you going to revive these be-
ings ?”

Yoal said slowly: “I intend to
discuss the matter with the council,
but I think there is no doubt. We
must know the cause of. this disas-
ter.” He waved one sucker vaguely
to take in half the conqwss. He
added as an afterthought, “We shall
proceed cautiously, of course, be-
ginning with an obviously early de-

THE MONSTER-

h^opment. The absence of the skel-
etons of children indicates that the
race had developed personal im-
mortality.”

The council came to look at. the
exhibits. It was, Enash knew, .a
formal preliminary only. The deci-
sion was made. There would be re-
vivals. It was more than that. Th^
were curious. Space was Vast, tlte
journeys through it long aftd lonely,
landing always a stimulating expe-
rience, with its prospect of new life
forms to be seen and studied.

The museum looked ordinary.
High-domed ceilings, vast rooms.
Plastic ‘models of strange beasts,
many artifacts — too many to see
and comprehend in so short a time.
The life span of a race was impris-
oned here in a progressive array of
relics: Enash looked with the

others, and was glad when they
came to the line of skeletons and
preserved bodies. He seated him-
self behind the energy screen, and
watched the biological experts take
a preserved body out of a stone
sarcophagus. It was wrapped in
windings of cloth, many of them.
The experts did not bother to un-
ravel the rotted material. Their
forceps reached through, pinched a
piece of the skull — that was the ac-
cepted procedure. Any part of the
skeleton could be used, but the mo$t
perfect revivals, the most complete
reconstructions resulted when a
certain section of the skull was
used.

Hamar, the chief biologist, ex-
plained the choice of <^ody. “The
chemicals used to preserve this

mummy show a sketchy knowledge
of chemistry; the carvings on the
sarcophagus indicate a crude and
immechanical culture. In such a
civilization there would not be much
development of the potentialities of
the nervous system. Our speech
experts have been analyzing the re-
corded voice mechanism which is a
part of each exhibit, and though -
many languages are involved — evi-
dence that the ancient language
spoken at the time the body was
alive has been reproduced — they
found no difficulty in translating
the meanings. They have now
adapted our universal speech ma-
chine, so that anyone who wishes to,
need merely speak into his commu-
nicator, and so will have his words
translated into the language of the
revived person. The reverse, nat-
urally, is also true. Ah, I see we
are ready for the first body.’'

Enash watched intently with the
others, as the lid was clamped down
on the., plastic reconstructor, and
the growth processes were started.
He could feel himself becoming
tense. For there was nothing hap-
hazard about what was happening.
In a few minutes a full-grown an-
cient inhabitant of this planet would
sit up and stare at them. The sci-
ence involved was simple and al-
ways fully effective.

.... Out of the shadows of
smallness life grows. The level of
beginning and ending, of life and —
not life; in that dim region matter
oscillates easily between old and
new habits. The habit of organic,
or the hal)it of inorganic.

Electrons ^o not have life and

un-life values. Atoms know noth-
ing of inanimateness. But when
atoms form into molecules, there is
a step in the process, one tiny step,
that is of life — if life begins at all.
One step, and then darkness. Oc
aliveness.

A stone or a living cell. A grain
of gold or a blade of grass, the
sands of the sea or the equally nu-
merous animalcules inhabiting the
endless fishy, waters — the difference
ds there in the twilight zone of mat-
ter. Each living cell has in it the
whole form. The crab grows, a new
leg when the old one is torn from
its flesh. Both ends of the plana-
rian worm elongate, and soon there
are two worms, tw6 identities, two
digestive systems, each as greedy as
the original, each a whole, un-
w'ounded, unharmed by its experi-
ence.

Each cell can be the whole. Each
cell remembers in a detail so intri-
cate that no totality of words could
ever describe the completeness
achieved.

But — paradox — memory is not
organic. An ordinary wax record
remembers sounds. A wire recorder
easily gives up a duplicate of the
voice that spoke into it years before.
Memory is a physiological impres-
sion, a mark on matter, a change in
the shape of a molecule, so that
wlicn a reaction is desired the shape
emits the same rliythm of respon.se.

Out of the mummy’s skull had
come the multi-quadrillion memory
shapes from which a response was
now being evoked. As ever, the
memory held true.

ASTOUNDINOr SCIEXCE -FICTION

A nian blinked^ and opened .his
eyes.

“It is true, then,” he said aloud,
and the words were translated into
the Ganae tongue as he spoke them.
“Death is merely an opening into
another life — but where are my at-
tendants ?“ At the end, his voice
took on a complaining tone.

He sat up, and climbed out of the
case, which Itad automatically
opened as he came to life. He saw
his captors. He froze — but only
for a moment. He had a pride and
a very special arrogant courage,
which served him novr.

Reluctantly, he sank to his knees,
and made obeisance, but doubt must
have been strong in him. “Am I in
the presence of the gods of Egyp-
tus?”

He climbed to his feet. “What
nonsense is this? I do not bow to
nameless demons.”

Captain Gorsid said: “Kill him!”
The two-le^ed monster dis-
solved, writhing, in the beam of a
ray gun.

The second man stood up palely,
and trembled with fear. “My God,
I swear I won't touch the stuff
again. Talk about pink elephants — ”
Yoal was curious. “To what
stuff do you refer, revived one?”
“The old hooch, the poison in the
old hip jx)cket flavsk, the juice they
gave me at that speak . . . my
lordie 1”

Captain Gorsid looked question-
ingly at Yoal. “Need we linger?”
Yoal hesitated: “I am curious.”
He addressed the man. “If I were
to tell you that we were visitors

from smother star, what would be
your reaction?”

The man sthred at him. He was
obviously puzzled, but the fear was
stronger. “Now, look,” he said, “I
was driving along, minding my own
business. I admit I'd had a shot or
two too many, but it’s the Hquor
they serve these days. I swear I
didn’t see the other car — and if this
is some new idea of punishing peo-
ple who drink and drive, well,
you’ve won. I won't touch another
drop as long as I livg, so help me.”
Yoal said: “He drives a ‘car’ and
thinks nothing of it. Yet we saw
no cars; they didn’t even bother
to preserve them in the museum.”
Enash noticed that everyone
waited for everyone else to com-
ment. He stirred as he realized the
circle of silence w'ould be complete
unless he spoke. He said :

“Ask him to describe the car.
How' does it work?”

“Now, you’re talking,” said the
man. “Bring on your line of chalk,
and I’ll walk it. and ask any ques-
tions you please. I may be so tight
that 1 can’t see straight, bvit I can
always drive. How does it work?
You just put her in gear, and step
on the gas.”

“Gas,” said engineering officer
Veed. “The internal combustion
engine. That places jiim.”

Captain Gorsid motioned to the
guard with the ray gun.

The third man sat up, and looked
at them thoughtfully. “From the
stars?” he said finally. “Have you
a system, or was it blind chance?”
The Ganae councillors in that

THB MONSTER

domed room stirred uneasily in
their <nirvcd cliairs. Enash caught
^Ybal’s eye on him ; the shock in the
historian’s eyes alarmed the meteo; *
ologist He thought: “The two-
legged one’s adjustment to a new
situation, his grasp of realities, was
unnormally rapid. No Ganac could
have equaled the swiftness of the
reaction.”

Hamar, the chief l)iologist, said :
“Speed of thought is not necessarily
a s'i^ of superiority. The slow,
careful thinker has his place in the
heirarchy of intellect.”

But, Enash found himself think-
itig, it was not the speed ; it was the
accuracy of the response. He tried
to imagine him.<5clf being revived
from the dead, and understanding
instantly the meaning of the pres-
ence of aliens from the stars. He
couldn’t have done it.

He forgot his thought, for the
man was out of the case. As Enash
watched with the others, he walked
briskly over to the window and
looked out. One glance, and then he
tomed back.

*Ts it all like this?” he asked.

Once £^ih, the speed of his un-
derstanding caused a sensation; It
was Yoal who finally replied.

“Yes, Desolation. Death. Ruin.
Have you any idea as to what hap-
pened ?”

The man came back and stood in
front of the energy screen that
guarded the Ganae. “May I look
over the museum? I have to esti-
mate what age I am in. We had
certain possibilities of destruction
when I was last alive, but which one

was realized depends on tlic time
elapsed.”

The councillors looked at Cap-
tain Gorsid, who hesitated; then:
“Watch him,” he said to the guard
with the ray gun. He faced the
man. "We understand your aspira-
tions fully. You would like to seize
control of this situation, and in-
sure your own safety. I^t me re-
assure you. Make no false moves,
an<l all will be well.”

Whether or not the man believed
the lie, be gave no sign. Nor did
he show by a glance or a move-
ment that he had seen the scarred
floor where the ray gun had burned
his two predecessors into nothing-
ness. He walked curiously to the
nearest doorway, studied the other
guard who waited there for him,
and then, gingerly, stepped through.
The first guard followed him, then
came the mobile energy screen, and
finally, trailing one another, ihe
councillors. Enash was the third
to pass through the doorway. The
room contained skeletons and plas-
tic models of animals. The room
beyond that was what, for want of
a better term, Enash called' a cul-
ture room. It contained the arti-
facts from a single period of civil-
ization. It looked very advanced.
He had examined some of the ma-
chines when they first p^sed
through it, and had thought : Atomic
cneigy. He was not alone in his
recognition. From behind him,
Captain Gorsid said:

“You are forbidden to touch
anything. A false move will be the
signal for the guards to fire.”

ASTOUNDING SCIRNCK-FTCTTON

The man stood at ease in the cen*
ter of the room. In spite of a curi*
ons an^dety, Enash had to admire
his calmness. He must have known
what his fate would be, but he
stood there thoughtfully, and .said
finally, deliberately:

‘T do not need to go any ^farther.
Perhaps, you will be able better
than 1 to judge of the time that lias
elapsed since 1 was born and' these
machines were built. I see over
there an instrument which, accord-
ing to the sign above it, counts
atoms w'hen they explode. As
soon as the proper number have
exploded it shuts off the power
automatically, and for just the right
length of time to prevent a chain
explosion. ' In my time we had a
thousand crude devices for limiting
the size of an atomic reaction, but
it required two thousand years to
develop those devices from the early
b^innings of atomic energy. Can
you make a comparison?”

The councillors glanced at Veed.
The engineering officer hesitated.
At last, reluctantly: “Nine thousand
years ago we had . a thousand meth-
ods of limiting atomic explosions.”
He paused, then even more slowly,
“I have never h^rd of an instru-
ment that counts out atoms for. such
a purpose.”

“And yet,” murmured Shuri, the
astronomer bmtblessly, “the race
was destroyed.”

There was silence — that ended as
Gorsid said to the nearest guard,
“Kill the monster !”

But it was the guard who went
down, bursting into flame. Not just
one guard, but the guards! Simul-

taneously down, burning with . a
blue flame. The flame licked at the
screen, recoiled, and licked more
furiously, recoiled and burned
brighter. Through a haze of fire,
Enash saw that the man had re-,
treated to the far door, and that the
machine that counted atoms, was
glowing with a blue intensity.

Captain Gorsid shouted into his
communicator : “Guard all exits

with ray guns, Spaceships stand
by to kill alien with heavy guns.”

Somebody laid : “Mental control,
some kind of mental control. What
have we run into?”

They were retreating. The Wue
fire was at the ceiling, struggling
to break through the screen. Enash
had a last glimpse of the machine.
It must still be counting atoms,
for it was a hellish blue. Enash
raced with the others to the room
where the man had been resur-
rected. ■ There another energy
screen crashed to their rescue. Safe
now,, they retreated into their sep-
arate bubbles and whisked through
outer doors and up to flie ship.
As the great ship soared, an atomic
bomb hurtled down fr(Mn it. The
mushrooQi of flame blotted out the
museum and the city below.

“But we still don’t know why the
race died,” .Y.oal whispered into
Enash's ear, after the thunder had
died from the heavens behind them.

The pale yellow sun crept over
the horizon on the third morning
after the bomb was dropped — the
eighth day since the landing. Enash
floated wdth the cMhers down on a

.THE MONSTER

new city. He had come to argue
against any further revival.

“As a meteorologist,” he said, “I
pronounce this planet safe for
Ganae colonization. I cannot see
the need for taking any risks. This
'race has discovered the secrets of
its nervous system, and we cannot
aliford — ” .

He was interrupted. Plamar, the
biologist, said dryly: “If they

knew so much why didn’t they
migrate to other star systems and
save themselves ?” ^

“I will concede,” said Enash,
“that very possibly they had not
discovered our system of locating
stars with planetary families.” He
looked earnestly around the circle
of his friends. “We have agreed
that- was a unique accidental dis-
covery. We were lucky, not clever.”

He saw by the expressions on
their faces that they were mentally
refuting his arguments. He felt a
helpless sense of imminent catas-
trophe. For he could see that pic-
ture of a great race facing death.
It must* have come swiftly, but
not so swiftly that they didn’t know
about it. There were too many
skeletons in the open, lying in the
gardens of the magnificent homes,
as if each man and his wife had
come out to wait for the doom of
his kind.

He tried to picture it for the coun-
cil, that last day long, long ago,
when a race had calmly met its
ending. But his visualization failed
somehow, for the others shifted im-
patiently in the seats that had been
set up behind the series of energy
screens, and Captain Gorsid said :

“Exactly what aroused this' in-
tense emotional reaction in you,
Enas.h ?”

The question gave Enash pause.
He hadn’t thought of it as emo-
tional. He hadn’t realized the na-
ture of his obsession, so subtly liad
it stolen upon him. Abruptly, now,
he realized.

“It was the third one,” lie said
slowly. “I saw him through the
haze of energy fire, and he was
standing there in the distant door-
way watching us curiously, just be-
fore we turned to run. His bravery,
his calm, the skilful way he had
duped us — it all added up.”

“Added up to his death?” said
Hamar. And everybody laughed.

“Come now, luiash,” said vice-
captain Mayad good-humoredly,
“you’re not going to pretend that
this race is braver than our own,
or that, with all the precautions we
have now taken, we need fear one
man

Enash was silent, feeling foolish.
The discovery that he had had ah
emotional obsession abashed him.
He did not want to appear unrea-
sonable. One final protest he made,

“I merely wish to point out,” he
said doggedly, “that this desire to
discover what happened to a dead
race does not seem absolutely essen-
tial to me.”

Captain Gorsid tvaved at the
biologist. “Proceed,” he said, “with
the revival.”

To Enash. he said: "Do we dare
return to Gana, and recommend
mass migrations — and then admit
that we did not actually complete

ASTOUNDING S Cl BN CR-F ICT f ON

«ur imrestigations here? It’s iin>
possible, my friend/*

It was the old argument, but
reluctantly now Enash admitted
there was something to be said for
that point of view.

He forgot that, for the fourth
man was stirring.

The man sat up — and \'ani$hed.

There was a blank, startled, horri-
fied silence. Then Captain Gorsid
said harshly :

“He can’t get out of there. We
know that. He’s in there some-
where.”

All around Enash, the Ganae
were out of their chairs, peering
into the energy shell. The guards
stood with ray guns held limply in
their suckers. Out of the corner
of his eye, he saw one of the pro-
tective screen technicians beckon to
Veed, who went over — and came
back grim.

“I’m told the needles jumped ten
points when he first disappeared.
Tliat’s on the nucleonic level.”

“By ancient Ganae !” Shuri whis-
pered. “We’ve run into what we’ve
always feared.”

Gorsid was shouting into the
communicator. “Destroy all the
locators on the ship. Destroy them,
do you hear!”

He turned with glary eyes.
“Shuri,” he bellowed, “they don’t
seem to imderstand. Tell those
subordinates of yours to act. All
locators and reconstructors must
be destroyed.”

“Hurry, hurry !” said Shuri
weakly.

THE UONSTEE

When that was done ^y
breathed more easily. There were
grim ^niles and a tensed satisfac-
tion. “At least,” swd Vice captain
Mayad, “he cannot now ever dis-
cover Gana. Our great system of
locating suns with planets remains
our secret. There can be no retalia-
tion for—” He stopped, said slowly,
“What am I talldng about? We
haven’t done anything. We’re not
responsible for the disaster tlwit
has befallen the inhabitants of this
planet.”

But Enash knew ■ what he had
meant. The guilt feelings came
to the surface at such moments as
this — the ghosts of all the races
destroyed by the Ganae, the re-
morseless wilL that had been in
them, when they first landed, to
annihilate whatever was here. The
dark abyss of voiceless hate and
terror that lay behind them; the
days on end when they had merci-
lessly poured poisonous radiation
down upon the unsuspecting inhabi-
tants of peaceful planets — all that
had been in Mayad’s words.

“I still refuse to believe he has
escaped.” That was Captain Gor-
sid. “He’s in there. He’s waiting
for us to take down our screens, so
he am escape. Well, we won’t do
it.”

There was silence again, as they
stared expectantly into the energy
shell — into the emptiness of the
energy shell. The reconstructor
rested on its metal supports, a glit-
tering affair. But there wa^ noth-
ing else. Not a flicker of unnatural
light or shade. The yellow rays
of the sun bathed the open spaces

with a brilliance that left no room
for concealment.

“Guards,” said Gorsid, “destroy
the reconstructor. I thought he
might come back to examine it, but
we can’t take a chance on that.”

It burned with a white fury ; and
Enash who had hoped somehow that
the deadly energy would force the
two-legged thing into the open, felt
his hopes sag within him.

“But where can he have gone ?”
Y^oal whispered.

Enash turned to discuss the mat-
ter, In the act of swinging around,
he saw that the monster was stand-
ing under a tree a score of feet to
one side, watching them. He must
have arrived that moment, for there
was a collective gasp from the coun-
cillors. Everybody drew back. One
of the screen technicians, using
great presence of mind, jerked up
an energy screen between the Ganae
and the monster. The creature came
forward slowly. He was slim of
build, he held his head well back.
His eyes shone as from an inner
lire.

He stopped as he came to the
screen, reached out and touched it
with his fingers. It flared, blurred
with changing colors ; the colors
grew brighter, and extended in an
intricate pattern all the way trpm
liis head to the ground. The blur
cleared. The colors drew back into
the pattern. The pattern faded into
invisibility. The man was through
the screen.

He laughed, a soft sound; then
sobered. “When I first wakened,”
he said, “T was curious about the

situation. The question \Vas, what
should I do with you?”

The words had a fateful ring to
Enash on the still morning air of
that planet of the dead. A voice
broke the silence, a voice so strained
and unnatural that a moment passed
before he recognized it as belonging
to Captain Gorsid.

"Kill him!'’

When the blasters ceased their
effort, the unkillable thing remained
standing. He walked slowly for-
ward until he was only half a dozen
feet from the nearest Ganae. Enash
had a position well to the rear. The
man said slowly:

“Two courses suggest themselves,
one based on gratitude for reviving
tne, the other based on reality. I
know you for what you are. Yes,
knozi' you— and that is unfortunate.
It is hard to feel merciful.

“To begin with,” he went on, “let
us suppose you surrender the secret
of the locator. Naturally, now that
a system exists, we shall never again
])e caught as we were—”

Iriiash had been intent, his mind
so alive with the potentialities of the
disaster thaf was here that it seemed
inijjossible he muld think of any-
thing else. And yet, now a part of
his attention was stirred.

“\\Iiat did happen?” .

'I'he man changed color. 'I'he
emotions of that far day thickened
his voice. “A nucleonic storm. It
swept in from tjuter space. It
brushed this edge of our galaxy.
It was about ninety light-years in
diameter, beyond the farthe.st limits

A S T O U N D I N a S C T E N C K - F 1 C JM O y

of our power. There was no es- ; Around Enash, the councillors

cape from it. We had dispensed were breathing' easier. The fear pf
with spaceships, and had no time race destruction that had come to
to construct any. Castor, the only them was lifting. Enash saw with
star with planets ever discovered by pride that the first shock was over,
us, was also in the path of the and they were not even afraid . for
storm.” themselves.

He stopped. “The secret he “Ah,” said Yoal softly, “you
said. don’t know the secret. In spite of

all your great development, we alone
can conquer the galaxy.”

He looked at the others, smiling
confidently. “Gentlemen,” he said,
“our pride in a great Ganae achieve-
ment is justified. I suggest we re-
turn to our ship. We have no fur-
ther business on this planet.”

There was a confused moment
while their bubbles formed, when
Hnash wondered if the two-legged
one would try to stop their depar-
ture. But the man, when he looked
back, was walking in a leisurely
fashion along a street.

That was the memory Enash car-
ried with him, as the ship began to
move. That and the fact that the
three atomic bombs they dropped,
one after the other, failed to
explode-

“We will not,” said Captain Gor-
sid, “give up a planet as easily as
that., I propose another interview
with the creature.”

They were floating down again
into the city, Enash and Yoal and
Veed and the commander. Captain
Gorsid’s voice tuned in once more :
“. . . . As I visualize it” —
through mist Enash could see the
transparent glint of the other three
bubbles around him — ^“we jumped
td conclusions about this creature,
not justified by the evidence. For
instance, when he awakened, he van-
ished. Why? Because he was
afraid, of epurse. He wanted to
size up the situation. He didn’t
believe he was omnipotent.”

It was sound logic. Enash found
himself taking h^rt from it. Sud-
denly, he was astonished that he had

'6f

become panicky so easily. He be-
gan to see the danger in a new light.
One man, only one man, alive bn a
new planet. If they were deter-
mined enough, colonists could be
moved in as if he did not exist. It
had been done before, he recalled.
On several planets, small groups of
the original populations had sur-
vived the destroying- radiation, and
taken refuge in remote areas. In
almost every case, the new colonists
gradually hunted them down. In
two in.staiices, however, that Enash
remembered, native races were still
bolding small sections of their
planets. In each case, it had been
found impractical to destroy them
because it would have endangered
the Ganae on the planet. So the
survivors were tolerated.

One man would not take up very
much room.

When, they found him, he was
busily sweeping out the lower floor
of a small bungalow. He put the
broom aside, and stepped onto the
terrace outside. He had put on
sandals, and he wore a loose-fitting
robe made of very shiny material.
He eyed them indolently but he said
nothing. ^

It was Captain Gorsid who made
the proposition. Enash had to ad-
mire the story he told into the lan-
guage machine. The commander
was very frank. That approach had
been decided on. He pointed out
that the Ganae could not be ex-
pected to revive the dead of this
planet. Such altruism would l>e
unnatural considering that the ever-
growing Ganae hordes had a con-
tinual need for new worlds. Each

ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-DICTION

vast new population increment was
a problem that could be solved by
one method only. In this instance,
the colonists would gladly respect
the rights of the sole survivor of
the —

It was at that point that the man
interrupted. “But what is the pur-
pose of this endless expansion?”
He seemed genuinely curious.
“What will happen when you
finally occupy everv planet in this
galaxy ?”

Captain Gorsid’s puzried eyes
met Y^oaVs then flashed to Veed,
then Enash. Enash slmigged his
torso negatively, and felt pity . for
the creature. The man didn't un-
derstand, possibly never could un-
derstand. It was the old story of
two different viewpoints, the virile
and the decadent, the race that
aspired to the «tars and the race that
declined the call of destiny.

“Wliy not,” urged the man, “con-
trol the breeding chambers?”

“And have the government over-
thrown!” said Yoal.

He spoke tolerantly, and Enash
saw that the others were smiling
at the man’s naivete. He felt, the
intellectual gulf between them
widening. The man had no com-
prehension of the natural life forces
that were at work. He said now :

“Well, if you don’t control them,
we will control them for you.”

There was silence.

They began to stiffen. Enash felt
it in himself, saw the signs of it in
the others. His gaze flicked from
face to face, then back to the crea-
ture in the doorway. Not for the

THE MONSTER

first time Enash had the thought
that their enemy seemed helpless.

“Why,” he almost decided, “I
could put my suckers around him
and crush him.”

He wondered if mental control
of nucleonic, nuclear and gravi-
tonic energies included the ability
to defend oneself from a macro-
cosmic attack. He had an idea it
did. The exhibition of power two
hours before might have had limita-
tions, but, if so, it was not apparent.

Strength or weakness could make
no difference. The threat of threats
had been made: “If you don’t con-
trol— we will.”

The words echoed in Enash's
brain, and, as the meaning pene-
trated deeper, his aloofness faded.
He had always regarded himself as
a spectator. Even when, earlier,
he had argued agmnst the revival,
he had been aware of a detached
part of himself watching the scene
rather than being a part of it. He
saw with a sharp clarity that that
was why he had finally yielded to
the conviction of the others.

Going back beyond that to re-
moter days, he saw that he had
never quite considered himself a
participant in the seizure of the
planets of other races. He was the
one who looked on, and thought of
reality, and speculated on a life
that seemed to have no meaning.

It was meaningless no longer.
He was caught by a tide of irre-
sistible emotion, and swept along.
He felt himself sinking, merging
with the Ganae mass being. All
the strength and all the will of the
race surged up in his veins.

AST— 3X 6T

He snajrled : “Creature, if you

have any hopes of reviving your
dead race, abandon them now.”
The man looked at him, but said
nothing. Enash rushed on :

“If you could destroy us, you
would have done so already. But
the truth is that you operate within
limitations. Our ship is so built
that no conceivable chain reaction
could be started in it. For every
plate of potential unstable material
iff it there is a counteracting plate,
which prevents the development of
a critical pile. You might be able
to set off explosions in our engines,
but they, too, would be limited, and
would merely start the process for
which they are intended — confined
in their proper space.”

He was aware of Yoal touching
his arm. “Careful,” warned the
historian., “Do not in your just
anger give away vital information.”
Enash shook off the restraining
sucker. “Let us not be unrealistic,”
he said harshly. “This thing has
divined most of our racial secrets,
apparently merely by looking at
our bodies. We would be acting
childishly if we assumed that he
has not already realized the possi-
bilities of the situation.”

“Enash!” Captain Gorsid’s voice
w^as imperative.

As swiftly as it had come Enash’s
rage subsided. He stepped back.
“Yes, commander.”

“I think J know what you in-
tended to say,” said Captain Gor-
sid. “I assure you I am in full
accord, but I believe also that I,
as the top Ganae official, should
deliver the ultimatum.”

He turned. His horny body
towered above the man.

“You have made the unforgivable
threat. You have told us, in effect,
that you will attempt to restrict th^
vaulting Ganae spirit — ”

“Not the spirit,” said the man.
He laughed softly. “No, not the
spirit.”

The commander ignored the in-
terniption. “Accordingly, we have
no alternative. We are assuming
that, given time to locate the ma-
terials and develop the tools, you
might be able to build a recon-
structor.

“In our opinion it will be at least
two years before you can com-
plete it, even if you know how. It
is an immensely intricate macliine
not easily assembled by the lone
survivor of a race .'that gave up its
machines millennia jjefore disaster
struck.

“You did not have time to build
a spaceship.

“We won’t give you time to
build a rccon.structor.

“Within a few minutes our ship
will start dropping bombs. It is
possible you will be able to prevent
explosions in your vicinity. We
will start, accordingly, on the other
side of the planet.' If you stop us
there, then we will assume we need
Kelp.

.“In six months of traveling at
top acceleration, we can reach a
point where the nearest Ganae
planet would hear our messages.
They will send a .fleet so vast that
all your powers of resistance will
be overcome. By dropping a hun-
dred or a thousand bombs every

ASTOUNDING SCI UNUE-FICTION

minute we will succeed in devastat-
ing every ‘city, so that not, a grain
of dust will remain of the skeletons
of your people.

^That is our plan,

"So it shall be.

"Now, do your worst to us who
arc at your mercy.”

The man shook his head. ‘T
shall do nothing — now 1” he said.
He paused, then thoughtfully,
"Your reasoning is fairly accurate.
Fairly. Naturally, I am not all
powerful, but it seems to me you
have forgotten one little point.

“I won't tell you what it is.

“And now,” he said, ‘‘^ood day
to you. Get back to your ship, and
be on your way, I have much to
do.”

Enash had been standing quietly,
aware of the fury building up in
him again. Now, with a hiss, he
sprang forward, suckers .out-
stretched. They were almost touch-
ing the smooth flesh — when some-
thing snatched at him.

He was back on the ship.

He had no memory of move-
ment, no sense of being dazed or
harmed. He was aware of Veed
and Yoal and Captain Gorsid stand-
ing near him as astonished as he
himself. Enash remained very still,
thinking of what the man had said :
"... Forgotten one little point."
Forgotten ? That meant they knew.
What could it be? He wa.s still
pondering about it when Yoal said :

"We can be reasonably certain
our l)omb.s alone will not work.”

Tliey didn’t.

Forty light-years out from Earth,

Enash was summoned to the coun-
cil chambers. Yoal greeted him
wanly :

"The monster is aboard.”

The thunder of that poured '
through Enash, and with it came a
sudden comprehension. "That
what he ^eant we had forgotten,”
he said finally, aloud and wonder-
ingly, “that he can travel through
space at will within a limit — what
was the figure he once used — of
ninety light-years.”

He sighed. He was not sur-
prised that the Ganae, who had to
use ships, would not have thought
immediately of such a possibility.
Slowly, he began to retreat from the
reality. ■ Now that the shock had
come, he felt old and weary, a sense
of his mind withdrawing ^;ain to
its earlier state of aloofness.

It required a few minutes to get
the story. A physicist’s assistant,
on his“way to the storeroom, had
caught a glimpse of a man in a
lower corridor. In such a heavily
manned ship, the Mronder was that
the intruder had escaped earlier
observation. Enash had a th(^ht.

"But after all we are not going
all the way to one of our i^anets.
How does he expect to make use of
us to locate it if we only use
video — ” He stopped. That was
it, of course. Directional video
beams- would have to be used, and
the^man would travel in the right
direction the instant contact was
made.

Enash saw the decision in the
eyes of his companions, the only
possible decision under the circum-
stances. And yet — it seemed to

THTJ MONSTER

him they were missing some vital
point.

He walked slowly to the great
video plate at one ^d of the cham-
ber. There was a picture on it, so
vivid, so sharp, so majestic that the
unaccustomed mind would have
reeled as from a stunning blow.
Even to him, who knew the scene,
there came a constriction, a sense
of unthinkable vastness. It was a
video view of a section of the
milky way. Four hundred million
stars as seen through telescopes that
could pick up the light of a red
dwarf at thirty thousand light-
years-

The video plate was twenty-five
yards' in diameter — 2, scene that had
no parallel elsewhere in the plenum.
Other galaxies simply did not have
that many stars.

Only one in two hundred thou-
sand of those glowing suns had
planets.

That was the colossal fact that
compelled them now to an irrevoc-
able act. Wearily, Enash looked
around him.

**The monster had been very
dever,” he said quietly. “If we go
ahead, he goes with us — obtains a
reconstructor and returns by his
method to his planet. If we use
the directional beam, he flashes
along it, obtains a reconstructor and
again reaches his planet first. In
either event, by the time our fleets
arrived back there, he would have
revived ^ough of his kind to
thwart any attack we could mount.”

He shook his torso. The picture
was accurate, he felt surei but it

Still seemed incomplete. He said
Slowly:,

“We have one advantage now.
Whatever decision we make, there
is no language machine to enable
him to learn what it is. We can
carry out our plans without his
knowing what they will be. He
knows tliat neither he nor we can
blow up the ship. That leaves us
one reaJ alternati\-e.”

It was Captain Gorsid who broke
the silence that followed. “Well,
gentlemen, I see We know our
minds. We will set the engines,
blow up the controls — and take him
with us.”

They looked at each other, race
pride in their eyes. Enash touched
suckers with each in turn.

An hour later, when the heat was
already considerable, Enash had
the thought that sent him staggering
to the communicator, to call Shuri,
the astronomer.

“Shuri,” he yelled, “when ttie
monster first awakened — remember
Captain Gorsid had difficulty get-
ting your subordinates to destroy
the locators. We never thought to
ask them what the delay was. Ask
them . . . ask them — ”

There was a pause, then Shuri’s
voice came weakly over the roar of
static :

“They . . . couldn’t . . . get . . .
into . . . the . . . room. The door
was locked.”

Enash sagged to the floor. They
had missed more than one point,
he realized. The man had awak-
ened, realized the situation; and,
when he vanished, he had gone to

ASTOUNDING SCIBNCB-PICXION

the ship, and there discovered the
secret of the locator and possibly
the secret of the reconstructor — if
he didn’t know it previously. By
the time he reappeared, Hfe already
had from them what he wanted.
All the rest niUst have been de-
signed to lead them to this act of
desperation.

In a few moinants, now, he would
be leaving the ship secure in the
knowledge that shortly no alien
mind would know his planet ex-
isted. Knowing,, too, that his race
would live again, and this time never
die.

Enash staggered to his feet,
clawed at the roaring communicator;
and shouted his new understanding
into it. There was no ansjrer. Ii
clattered with the static of uncon-
trollable and inconceivable energy.

The heat was peeling his armored
hide, as he struggled to the matter
transmitter. It flashed at him with
purple Bame. Back to the com-
municator He ran shouting and
kreaming.

He was still whimpering into it
a few minutes later when the mighty
ship plunged into the heart of a
blue-white sun.

THE END

IN TIMES TO COME

Next month, for the first time in quite a while, wc will have no sferial
installment, but a long novelette by George 0. Smith called “The Catspaw.”
It’s got a neat gimmick in it. Suppose you have thought up a way of running
a ship faster than liglit — maybe. The maybe being the possibility that the
device will set up a total-annihilation chain reaction not only in the ship,
but in any near-by planets or suns 1 Makes one a leetle hesitant about tryii^
it out — unless you can get some poor unsuspecting race to try it.

There’s another novelette with a wonderful gimmick, too. It’s a, Doc
Methuselah yarn by Rene Lafayette called “The Great Air Monopoly.” Ye]),
the monop^ists sold people the right to breathe the planet’s atmosphere. Made
it stick, too— if they didn't pay the air tax, they couldn’t breathe 1 Can be
done on tiie basis of modem knowledge, too— if you can figure out how
worked though, you should be figuring out stories for us!

The Editor.

THB UONSTEK

NEW

DIELECTRICS

By E. L. EOCKE

Men can generate poicer, hut to date we have mo satisfactory
wag of storing it. The invention of a really effective power-
storage device is at least equal in importance to the devel-
opment of a power- producing atomic pile, and pr.ohably will
mean more to J. Q. Public. This, then, is how things stand: —

One^of the pressing technological
needs of mankind is _a good way to
store electrical energy. While im-
proved storage nieans for other
kinds of energy would also be wel-
comed, it is the lack of an efficient,
compact and high capacity elec-
tricity storage device that is felt
most acutely. This is natural be-
cause electrical energy is so con-
venient to use and the benefits lo be
gained from such a device are so
clearly visible.

The whole problem of generating
electric power is intimately tied up
with the methods of energy storage
that^e have available. Our present
power tecbnolc^y is based on the
cliemical energy storage nature has
provided us— coal and oil. The
processes we are forced to use
to get electricity from then! are
complicated and not too satisfac-
tory.

We have potentially available a

much more satisfactory source, the
solar energy that the earth receives
in such abundance. If this could
be freely utilized, much of the po-
litical tension of the world would
disappear, since it is engendered by
the quest of the large powers for
sources of energy.

It is quite likely that the direct
conversion of solar energy into elec-
tricity could be accomplished even
today with fair efficiency and at a
reasonable cost. The deterrent has
to do with the fact that the sun
shines at irregular intervals and the
power needs are continuous, though
not uniform. Clearly then the solar
energy plant will not be practical
in ah economic sense until we have
a satisfactory energy storage device
producible at an acceptable cost.
In some ways this would be even a
better solution tlian atomic power.
The preparation of atomic fuel re-
quires elaborate plants and the gen-

ASTOUNDINO SCIENCE-FICTION

oration of clectridt}' and its distri-
bution would still involve mor6 or
less conventional methods.

This brings up another point.
ECven if solar energy plants should
prove unacceptable from the econ-
omic viewpoint, there are other ways
in which an electrical storage device
would prove to be a boon. Con-
sider for a moment what it would
do to the problem of generation of
clectri«ty from coal and its dis-
tribution. The size of a generating
plant would no longer be determined
by the peak load, but by the average
load. This would decrease the size
of the plants by a very appreciable
factor.

The greatest benefits, however,
would come from its effect on the
distribution proldem. Today a kilo-
watt hour of electricity can be gen-
erated for a small fraction of a cent.
The rest of the electric bill that you
pay goes mostly to pay for the cost
of the distribution system. If elec-
tricity could be delivered in pack-
aged form to your house, just as
milk is delivered, but by no means
as frequently, most of the electric
bill would disappear.

The uses of such a stor^e de-
vice would be multitudinous. To
take one at random, the electric
automobile would undoubtedly come
back because it has some nice ad-
vantages over the gasoline-driven
one. And to come down to tfiyi-
alitics, one could get really good
portable radios, transmitters as well
as receivers. '

With till these pleasing prospects
before us, it is natural to ask what
is blocking progress along these

0 4- 8 /2 X (0^

VOLTS/CM

FI6.1

VARIATION OF DIELETRIC
CONSTANT WITH FIELD
STRENGTH AND TEMPER-
ATURE) BaT/Oa

lines. Let’s see wliat common ways
we know to store electrical energ)’
and wliar ni*(j their shortcomings and
possibilities.

The first method to come to mind
is the storage battery and its cousin
the dry cell. These store the energy
in a chemical form. The storage
battery is clumsy, takes a relatively
long time to charge and has a lot of
other troubles as every car owner
knows. The dry cell is, of course,
just a one-shot affair, in which the
chemical changes are not easily re-^
versible.

Electricity can also be stored as'
mechanical energy by adding a
heavy flywheel to a motor generator,
This again is clumsy and further-

V»

NEW mrLECTlilOS

nKH’e friction quickly collects a
laiigo toll. It k, therefore, unsatk*
factory for general use although in
a couple of instances it has Seen
used in default of anything better.
One such case is in a cyclotron now
being designed ; another is the way
•Peter Kapitaa, the Russian physi-
cist, used it to supply for a short
time the enormous electric currents
needed to produce extremely high
intensity magnetic fields.

Inductances will also store elec-
trical energy which they do by set-
ting up a magnetic field. Again it
is not- a general purpose storage
device because it r^uires a con-
tinuous flow of current to maintain
the field. But this is precisely what
a general purpose device must avoid,
and hence while inductances liave
their uses, they will not do for the
problem at hand.

Finally, we have the electrical
condenser which in many respects
offers the best hope for the ultimate
solution of our problem. It can be
charged practically instantaneously
and the stored energy can be re-
covered either quickly or slowly.
If it uses the right materials, it will
hold its charge, not indefinitely it
is true, but for hours and under
the right conditions for days. The
only real trouble is that the amount
of energy that can be stored per
unit of volume is as yet too small.
The real problem then w'ould be to
find materials which vt^ld improve
this energy per unit volume figure,
and as a secondary, but still im-
portant problem, to extend the
length of time this energy could
be stored. It is the progress on the

first problem that we shall concern
onrselvcs with m this article.

The earliest form of the electrical
concknser, the Leyden Jar, is still
a good illustration of what consti-
tutes a condenser. If you will re-
call your high sriiool physics, the
Leyden Jar consists of a glass jar
with a coating of tin foil on Its
inner and outer surfaces. The
metal foil serves as the “plates” of
the condenser while the glass acts
as the insulator, :pr “dielectric”
medium. It stores electrical energy
by virtue of the fact that when a
voltage is applied across tlie two
plates the resulting electric field dis-
torts slightly the electronic struc-
ture of the dielectric. This is by
no means the Avhole story, but it
will serve for the present to give a
preHminary idea as to what goes on
in a condenser.

The Leyden Jar, which originally
was only^ a laboratory curiosity, has
evolved into the modern condenser
with multifold uses. It is a basic
component in all sorts of commu-
nication circuits, where it serves as
a tuning element for selective cir-
cuits, filters out power hum, isolates
circuits and does a great many other
things. In the power field, it is used
‘principally to improve the charac-
teristics of induction motors. In
nuclear physics, the well-known Van
de Graff generator is nothing but
a huge spherical condenser which
can be charged up to some millions
of volts. Glass, of course, is seldom
used as a dielectric, the most com-
mon ones now being air, paper, mica
and oil.

Let’s look into the question of

ASTOUNDING SCIBNCB-PICTION

how much — right now, how little —
energy, a condenser can store and
on what factors it depends. It turns
out that this energy is proportional
to the square of the voltage applied
across the plates. That is, doubling
the applied voltage quadruples the
energy stored. It is also propor-
tional to the area of the dielectric
and inversely proportional to its
thickness.

It would seem ofFhand. that an
easy way to store a lot of energy
would be to make the dielectric ex-
tremely thin and apply a lot of volt-
age across it. Unfortunately, these
are contradictory requirements be-
cause a given thickness of the di-
electric will support only a certain
voltage before it breaks down and
is physically damaged. This break-
down voltage is very nearly pro-
portional to the thickness and hence
it turns out that the energy tliat can
be stored in a unit volume is inde-
pendent of the thickness of the
dielectric.

There is one other factor that
enters into the problem which we
have not yet mentioned. It is the
“dielectric constant’' of the insulator
used. This varies from one material
to another. The larger it is, the
more energy can be stored in a
given volume if all other factors are
equal. I'he real hope of licking the
energy storage problem lies in find-
ing materials with very high dielec-
tric constants.

To get at the notion of what is
meant by this term consider a con-
denser with a perfect vacuum as
the insulator. If we charge this

with 3 given voltage, it will store, a
certain quantity of energy. Now
replace the vacuum with some other
insulator and, after chargii^ to the
same voltage, measure again the
energy stored. We will -find that
it is always greater than for the
>^uum case. The ratio of the non-
vacuum to vacuum enei^es is
called the dielectric constant, which
we will denote by the symbol K.
The table below gives values for a
few common materials.

TABLE I

Material

Air

1. 0001 5

Glass

5-5 to 9-1

Mica

5 to 7

Paper

2.6

Hard Rubber

2.0 to 3 *3

Sulfur

2.9 to 3.2

It will be convenient for future

discussion to introduce here the no-
tion of capacitance, C. This is a
single number which lumps together
the effects of plate area, dielectric
constant and thickness of the didec-
tric. That is to say, we customarily
express the energy stored, E, in
terms of the applied voltage V and
capacitance C through the follow-
ing relation

E = i (i)

If the energy is expressed in watt
seconds and the voltage in ordinary
volts, the unit of C will be the farad.
Now the farad is an impractically

NEW DIKT.KCTRICS

lai^e umt and the practical units at«
the microfarad (mf) which is one-
millionth of the farad and the micro-
microfarad (mmf), which is still
smaller by another factor of a mil-
lion. •

The capacitance can be expressed
aTso by a simple formula

C = .225 AK/t mmf (2)

the symbol A standii^ for the area
in square inches, t for the thickness
of* the dielectric in inches, w’hile K
is the dielectric constant.

With these formulas before us,
let us see how much energy we can
store in a condenser. Suppose we
take a 10 microfarad condenser
which is already on the somewhat
bulky size. If it is a good grade
of commercial condenser, it will
safely withstand about 500 volts,
'fhe energy stored turns out to be

watt seconds w'hich would run
a 25-watt lamp for all of 1/20 of a
second. By our ordinary notions,
this certainly does not constitute a
lot of energy. Now if we could
rmly increase the dielectric constant
to — ~

At this point I recall with much
mental drooling one of George O.
Smith’s Venus Equilateral stories.
This one had to do with the con-
struction of an energy gun. As you
may recall, it required among other
things that a tremendous amount
of electrical energy be accuniulated
and dumped into the gun in a hurry.
Now an electrical condenser is just
the thing for this purpose, excei^t
that Smith’s boys realized that ordi-
nary values of dielectric constant

7«-

were inadequate. So one of them
solved the problem by inventing a
material whose dielectric constant
w'as up in the multiple billions.

It's too bad that this inateriaTis
not yet available to us for it would
certainly solve our problem. If
w’e assume that our present 10 mf
condenser uses a ' dielectric with a
K of 5. then the substitution of this
material with a K of 9 X 10^ tvouid
permit us to store sixty thousand
billion kilowatt hours of energy!
This high a K is really not needed
for our purposes. If wc had a more
modest value, say a mere billion
(10®), we could store a thousand
kilowatt hours into a few cubic
indies, which would be about right
for our purposes.

Well, modern research has not
come through with a dielectric as
good as Sjnith’s, but it did turn up
some dandies during the war. As
Table I shows, five or six . repre-

FI6.2

TYPICAL HYSTERESIS
LOOP FOR BaT Os

ASTOUNDIKO BCIBNCE-FICTTON

rented before the war a high value
of dielectric constant K. Of course
there was water, which' had a K of
about 8o, but it unusable be-
cause of its high losses. Now, as
the result of the war effort, we have
available the new dielectrics whose
Ks run from lOO to {is much as
c 2,000! As is to be expected, the
extremely high K value materials
tend to be somewhat lossy, but
nevertheless they are remarkedly
good compared to clectrolytics. The
material with tlic K of 100 is as-
tonishingly good, ranking with the
best previously known.

Before describing these new ma-
terials, let us see what they will
mean to the users. Suppose we had
an air condenser the size of a penny,
the area of which is .44 square
inches. If the separation between
plates was .005 inches, its capaci-
tance, since K is practically unity
for air, would be about 20 mmf. If
we substituted for air the new
dielectric with the K of 100, the
capacitance would be 2,000 mmf.
Hence a good radio condenser could
be made in a size considerably
smaller than a penny. If wc used
a K of 12,000, the penny .size would
result in a capacitance of about ^
of a microfarad, which is getting
up into the si^hle range. Suppose
we wanted to use this tyiie of con-
denser for a tmm filter in a radio
power supply. Tliis needs about
10 microfarads, .say. Then we
would need 40 layers of the tlielec-
tric. Assuming that the metal
needed for plates would also he
.005 inches thick, the total pile-up

NKW DIKT.KCTRICg

would be about 4/10 inches. Hence
this condenser would take up no
more room than a stack of 7 pen-
nies!

Or again, consider the matter of
delaying electrical signals. This is
a very necessary matter in some
radar circuits. The delay needed
is not very much by ordinary stan-
dards of time reckoning, being only
one-one millionth of a second. Yet,
if one were to use an ordinary wave
guide for this purpose, it would
have to be about 1,000 feet long.
Now the velocity with which an
electromagnetic wave is prop^ated
varies inversely with'the square root
of the dielectric constant. Hence
using a wave guide filled with the
low loss K 100 material, the
length is reduced to lOO feet. This
is not short, yet it is quite an im-
provement over what was available
before.

It is amusing to consider how
Smith’s piaterial would have
worked. For air K is unity and the
speed is the same as the speed of
light in air, or thirty billion centi-
meters per second. In Smith’s
material, the speed of light would
get down to one centimeter pei'
second, a figure which any slow
poke of a turtle coukl easily beat.
Our delay line would need to be
only 1/1,000,000 cm long! Inci-
dentally, as my friend J. J. Coupling
|x>ints out, maybe this hypothetical
material would not have been so
good for an energy gun after all.
Wlien a condenser ^harges or dis-
charges, the energy flow is at a
finite s|)ecd, namely, the velocity of
the electromagnetic magnetic wave

through the-dielectric. At one centi-
meter per second, it would take
about i/ioo seconds for the wave
to pass through .004 inch thick
layer of dielectric. This is pretty
slow, particularly for energy gun
applications.

Let’s turn to a consideration of
the physical properties of these new
materials. First of all, they are all
compounds of the element titanium.
The ones that have been investigated
most, thoroughly are titanium diox-
ide Ti02, and the titanates of mag-
nesium, calcium, strontium and
barium, whose chemical formula is
XTiOg, where. X stands for one
atom of any of the elements listed.
Finally, there have been studies
made on mi?rtures of these, the most
interesting ones being those of
barium and strontium. All these
compounds are ceramics and are
prepared for use by firing at
for several hours followed
by a very slow cool.

Titanium dioxide is interesting
from the practical standpoint be^
cause it is such a high quality con-
denser material. It has a dielectric
constant of about 100. The aston-
ishing thing about this is that it
holds this value . with remarkable
constancy from d. c. all the way up
to 10,000 megacycles— 3 cms wave
length. What it does beyond this
frequency is not yet public knowl-
edge, there lieing no published data.
This constancy is a completely sur-
prising behavior, since a high dielec-
tric constant at a low frequency
generally implies a rapid dropping
off with increasing frequency. In
the past, materials that held their

dielectric constant up to these ultra-
high frequencies had Ks of about 3
only.

Let’s digress for a moment and
look at this matter of the variation
of dielectric constant with fre-
quency. When an alternating volt-
age is applied to a condenser the
internal electric field, that is the
forces acting on the electronic struc-
ture, will oscillate at the same fre-
quency as the applied -voltage. Now
if the electronic structure is capable
of following these alternating
forces, the dielectric constant will
rehiain unchanged. , However, if
the structure is of a type that shows
less and less »ability to - follow as
the frequency is raised, the dielec-
tric constant will show a corres-
ponding decrease.

An example of this type of ma-
terial is water. We have mentioned
that it has a K of 80. This is true
only at low frequencies. At optical
frequencies it has dropped to about
1.75. This is known from the fact
that the index of refraction of water
is about 1.33. This index is merely
the ratio of the speed of light in
air to that in the medium under
question. We have already men-
tioned that the speed of propagation
of an electromagnetic wave is in-
versely proportional to the square
root of the dielectric constant.
Hence it follows that the dielectric
constant of water at optical fre-
quencies is T.33 X 1.33 or 175-

In view of the constancy of the
dielectric constant of titanium diox-
ide with frequency, it is not too
surprising that it lias very low elec-

ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-PICTIOK

HfO -60 +20 100 fSOt

FIGJ

DIELECTRIC CONSTANT
AND LOSS OF BciTiO ,
AT IKc AND Z3 ^
VOLTS IcAA

trical Josses. From about i,ooo
cycles CO 10,000 megacycles, its loss
factor never exceeds 4/10,000 and
on. the average it is considerably
better than this figure. This means
that when power is being supplied to
the condenser only 4/100 per cent
or less is being dissipated as heat !

The material has a somewhat
complicated behavior with tempera-
ture. As the temperature is in-
creased the K drops uniformly, at

the rate of about i/io per cent per
degree Centigrade. As some critical
temperature, the K starts to increase
but at a much steeper rate. The
location of this critical temperature
depends on the frequency. For in-
stance, at 60 cycles, it is about 95®C :
at 1,000 cycles it is i40°C: while at
100 kilocycles it has shifted up to
240°C. This means that for high-
frequency work the user- need not
worry about the operating tempera-

KEW DlKLKCTRICfS

ture getting up so high that the
transition point tvill be reached.
So much for TiO».

The material that really captures
the imagination, and one tliat is
proving a happy hunting ground
for ph}'sicist's, is I)arium titanate
and its mixtures with strontium
titanate. It almost scents that all
you have to do is to mention any
physical effect and barium titanate
will have it in an exaggerated form.

It is what is called a- ferro-
electric material. This means that
in the field of electrification this
material bears the same relation to
other dielectrics as iron does to
i>ther materials in regards to mag-
netization. The parallelism is quite
close in many respects.

The dielectric constant is enor-
mous by ordinary standards. Fur-
thermore it varies considerably with
the strength of tlie applied electric
field in about the same way tliat
the permeability of iron does with
external magnetic field. At first K
increases considerably with increas-
ing field strength. It then reaches
a maximum value and with further
increases in field strength it drops
off in value, rather slowly. Typical
plots for three tciniK^ratures are
shown in Figure r. It will be seen
that at 22''’C the dielectric constant
starts in at about 2,000, and by the
time a field strength of 9,000 volts
per centimeter is reached K hits
a maximum of over 8,000. Now
while this voltage gradient seems
high, actually it can be reached
quite easily in a practical condenser.
Taking the dielectric to be .005
inches in thickness, it would take

only 115 volts across the condenser
to get to this pointi
\ Like iron, it has a hysteresis loop.
A typical one is shown in Figure 2,
which shows the charge that such a
condenser will have as a function
of cyclic voltage across it. For a
given maximum voltage , the shape
and size of the loop depends a great
deal on the tem],)erature. Starting
from — I75°C, the loops increase in
area iqi to — 8o®C. There is an ab-
rupt drop at this point, and the
curve starts in at about of the
former value, rises' again until at
15^0 it reaches the same value as at
— 8o°C. Again there is an abrupt
break, but this time further increase
ill temperature decreases the loop
area. One more break occurs at
about 85°C, the area suddenly drop-
ping to half its former value, and
from there on the' area decreases
continuously and rjqjidly, when it
finally disappears at about J40°C.
These multiple abrupt brealcs are
indicative of the fac-t that the crystal
structure of the material can take
on at least four different forms, the
known changes from one to the
other occurring at the temperatures
mentioned.

The* fact that the material has
hysteresis brings about another
curious effect. If one takes a con-
denser of this material and puts on
both a d.c. and an a.c. voltage, the
a.c. capacitance measured will be
far from the .same as the capacitance
to d.c. One might be tempted to
tliink that the former would be
proportional to the slope of the
K-applied voltage curve shown in
Figure i. However, just as in the

ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-PIOTION

case of iron core choke coils — as,
for instance, in radio B voltage
supplies — this is not so. The a.c.
values in the presence of d.c. arc
always smaller than when cither one
only is present.

Again, just as iron exhibits mag-
netostriction, so this material ex-
hibits a strong piezo electric effect.
What this means is that if a voltage
is applied to the material, it changes
its dimensions. Conversely, pull or
squeeze the material, and a voltage
will appear across it. Just how
large this effect is is not known ex-
actly because of the difficulty in
prcparii^ a large enough specimen
of a single crystal. That the effect
must be large is shown by the fact
that polycry.stalline form, which by
rights should not show it, will sing
vigorously when an audio- frequency
voltage is applied across it.

Even the linear expansion of this
material is peculiar. There are
certain temperature ranges where it
liehaves qiiitc normally, expanding
as the temperature is increased.
These, however, arc separated by
other ranges, where the material
remains very constant in length !

The specific heat likewise ex-
hibits peculiar breaks. But the
effect that has the crystall<^raphcrs
bothered is a sudden change in the
axial ratio of the crystal at I25®C.
Tlie change is only i j>er cent, btif
this is" considered pretty terrific by
those who work with such things.

From the standpoint of the phy-
sicist. the most interesting feature
of this material is the way the
dielectric constant behaves witli

NEW DIBLRCTRICS

temperature. A typical curve is
shown in Figure 3. The behavior
is certainly peculiar. Starting with a
value of about K = 100 at — 269^0
— not shown on the curve — the
curve sliows first a somewhat grad-
ual rise, with at least three distinct
regions where the behavior changes
abruptly. In the vicinity of about
ioo®C, the dielectric constant rises
with great rapidity, until in a matter
of 15® it reaches a value of about
6,500, and then decreases sharply
again. Peculiarly enough, the di-
electric loss reaches a minimum
where the K is the highest. The
minimum loss is about i per cent,
which, while not low, is very much
better than would be obtain^ from
an electrolytic condenser.

A fact of considerable practical
importance is that by the addition
of strontium titanate, the tempera-
ture at which the peak occurs esm
be shifted wherever we desire. For
instance, in a 29 per cent strontium,
71 per cent barium mixture, the
peak is brought down to 23®C or
73 °F, that is, room temperature.
The curve is shown in Figure 4.
It exhibits the astonishing K value
of 11,600 at the peak.. Unfortu-
nately, the loss is rather large at
this pmnt, about 10 per cent. How-
ever, for certain applications tjiis
may not be serious. Since the loss
drops rapidly with a slight increase
in temperature — being only i per
cent at 35®C, while the K has
dropped to only 6,500 — this si^-
gests tliat a little more strontium
should be added, thus shifting the
peak down by 12® and bringing the
low loss point to room temperature.

•i

The peculiar business about all by no means well understo€>d and
this is that strontium titanate is a even, what is known requires a
we4i behaved material, with a quite rather advanced knowledge of mod-
modest dielectric constant as shown ern theoretical physics. In simplest
in Figure 5. Its change with tern- terms, the matter may be put this
perature is quite gradual, and it way.

maintains a substantially constant Consider a unit condenser with
value of K even up to 100 mega- plates i sq. cm. in area and separated

-no -40 40 HQ 200

TEMPERATURE °C
FI6.4

DIELECTRIC CONSTANT AND LOSS
FOR 7/> BoTiO,, 27^ StTO^

cycles. Yet its addition to its rather by i -cni. The space is assumed, to
crazy cousin produces some pretty be occupied by a dielectric. The
weird effects. • capacitance of this condenser will

It is natural to ask why these then merely be the dielectric con-
materials exhibit such high dielec- stant of the material. Now if a
trie constants. The whole story is unit voltage is applied, it will be

ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-PICTION

L05S

found that the metal plates have
acquired a charge. The capacitance,
or dielectric constant is simply the
measure of how much charge col>
Iccts on the plates. This charge is
established in the following man-
ner.

When the voltage is put on, an
electric field is established through-
out the dielectric. If we picture
an atom within the dielectric to con-
sist of a positively charged nucleus
surrounded by a negatively charged
electron cloud,' the atom will be
electrically neutral before the field
is applied because the electrical
center of the cl«:tron cloud coin-
cides with that of the nucleus.

The applied electric field will
exert a force which tends to sepa-
rate the cloud center and the nu-
cleus. These centers may be visua-
lized as being held together by an
attraction akin to that of an ordi-
nary spring which resists the force
exerted by the applied field. The
amount of separation multiplied by
the electronic charge per atom is
called the dipole strength. This
quantity, figured over a unit vol-
ume, will be proportional to the
force created by the dectric field,
the constant of proportionality be-
ing known as the polarizability.
Now the greater the polarizability,
the greater will be the separation
between the + and — charges of
the atom, and hence it will depart
farther and farther from the elec-
trically neutral condition. By the
ordinary laws of electrostatics, this
internal unbalance will induce a
corresponding charge -on the metal
plates of the condenser. Thus it

can be seen that the greater the
polarizability, the greater will be the
dielectric constant of the material.

Acc<n*ding to a simplified version
of the mathematical theory, the
relation between polarizability A
and dielectric constant K is given by
the relaticm

K = (2A + i)/(i - A). (3)

It can be seen from this formula
that for all dielectrics, A must be a
number between zero and unity.
The relation between K and A is
iflustrated below. It will be seen
that as A gets near unity the dielec-
tric constant is very sensitive to
small changes in polarizability,

TABLE II

A 0 .5' .9 .95 -99 -9997
K .1 4 28 58 298 10,000

Now the problem is, what causes
the modest increase in A for barium
titanate that results in its stupen-
dous dielectric constant. Weil, so
far we have talked of the -shifting
of the electron cloud. In a crystal-
line material there is a second effect
in that the atoms in the lattice are
ionized. Thus we have in addition
to the dipoles formed by each a^pm
another group of dipoles formed
by the positive and negative ions
in the crystal lattice. In barium
titamte these contribute an addi-
tional 50 per cent or so to the al-
ready respectable electronic polariz-
ability. ■ The contributions of the
ions thus bring the value of A very
close to unity.

NEW DIELECTRICS

Kow it may be objected that there
arc plenty of crystalline materials
with quite ordinary values of dielec-
tric constant This is true. All
that can be said is tliat for this
pjirticwlar material the effect is
enough greater to show up as an
enormous increase in K. liy way
of explanation, it is stated that
in this material the separation be-
tween the oxygen and titanium
.atoms is slightly greater than the
sum of their individual radii. In
most crystalline siibsbinces it is
slightly less, llius it is said that
the titanium atom can *'rattlc*’ with-
in it.s inclosing octabcflron of six
t,).xygen atoms whicli accounts for
the increase in ionic polarization.
•This means that when an electric
field is applietl, the ionic dipole can
stretch more cisily tlian in otlier
materials.

The explanation of why this ma-
terial is voltage .sensitive follows
the line usually given, for magnetic
materials, d'hese are assumetl to
l>e mi^de up of small lilocks alxmt
i/lOO millimeter on a side, which
are fully magnetized even wlicn no
e.xtemal fiekl is applietl. Because
of the fact that these blocks or
domains arc oriented at random,
the net magnetization in the alise.icc
of an external jieltl is zero. As a
field is ap^j'Hetl and incrcasetl. the
domains gradually line up with the
direction of tiie applied, field.

In a ferro-electric material, tlie
existence of these .small regions has
also been demonslratetl. W’iiliiti
each region, the fHjndc:' arc assiimeti
to -be 'spornriretmsly j olarizcd and
brienred in ilie same direction, byt

again, because of the aiiulom direc-
tions of the domains, no net polari-
zation is observable until a voltage
is applied. Then as the voltage is
increased, tlicse domains start to
align themselves in a common di-
rcc,lio!i. When they arc all line<l
tip, the material is saturated, ju.st
as in the magnetic case.

To get back at the relation of
all this to our hopc.s for the practical
stor^c of electrical cncrgj% let us
take another look at Table II and
draw cheer from it. The problem
is essentially the pu.shing of tlic
[lolarizability a little nearer unity.
With barium titanatc we arc al-
ready at .9997 and tlio research i.*;
still in its infancy. As our ability
to mani[>ulatc the structure of mat-
ter grows, it nuiy \v*:ll be tluit in the
not to(» distant future we >rill be
abl ■ l:o make the titanium or some
otlKT atom “rattle” just a little
more. Wc will then have solved
the problem of storage electrical
energy.

At this i>oint, it is natuml to
im|ttire how far wc totlay from
the solution. Suppose we assume
llnit for home use, a loo kilowatt-
iiimr package represents a reason-
able requirement. This should last
an average househrjld from two to
four weeks. A juggling of the
two formulas already given show.s
tliat the volume of the packi^c
varies directly with the energy' to
be stored and inversely with the
dielectric constant. Ilowevcr, it
also varies inversely with the square
of the maximum safe workir^ volt-
age. that we can put across the

ASTOrSniNG SCIKNCK-FICTTOX

material. For. ;t>arium titanate this
is rather low, being only 100,000
volts per inch.- Thus, despite the
large K, it turns out that to hold
the above amount of energy the
condenser would need to be 20,000
cubic feet - in volume, or the size
of a six room house! If the break-
down voltage could be increased to
that of paper— 2,000,000 volts per
inch — the size would come down to
50 cubic feet. 'I'his then means that

a charged condenser slowly loses
its energy because the dielectric is
not a perfect in.sulator. Unfortu-
nately, barium titanate is a rather
poor insulator. It turns out that a
condenser made from this material
would lose 1 per cent of its energy
in the incredibly short time of
4/ioths of a second! But suppose
that the dielectric constant were
increased by the factor of 50 re-
ferred to above. The time w'ould

TEMPERATURE °C

FI6.5

DIELECTRIC CONSTANT AND LOSS OF
SrTiOs

wc would still need a 50-fold in-
crease* in the dielectric constant
]>efore the size of the package would
be right.

There is, however,* another very
serious problem to be solved before
packaged electricity is practical.
This is ihe matter of energy leak-
age. It is a well known fact that

NEW DlBLECTUirS

then increase to 20 seconds. If
now our material could only be
endowed with the insulating quali-
ties of hard rubber; — 10,000,000
times as good as barium titanate-=-
the time required to lose the i per
cent would become 6 years !

To sum up, it would seem that
before energy packaging becomes

practical, we must acquire a material
with a dielectric constant 50 times
greater than tliat of barium titanate,
with the breakdown strength of
paper and the insulation resistance
of hard rubber! This seems like
a lot to for. But remember,
the research is still in its infancy.
Would you bet that it won’t be
done?

References : (1) Von Hippel ct al. “Hi|^
Dielectric Constant
Ceramics.” Industrial
and Engineering Chem-
istry, Vol. 38, No. 11,
1946 Pp. 1097-fl09.

(2) B. Wul. "High Dielec-
tric Constant Materials.”
Jour. Phys. V.SS.R.,
Vol. X, No. 2. 1946.

THE END

THE ANALYTICAL LABORATORY

The results on the May issue follow below. It’s been some time since I
explained how these .scores are figured, so for those who have missed it, the
method of scoring is as follows. Say a letter or card votes Story A for first
place, X for second, M for third, and R for fourth. That gives A 1 point,
X gets 2, M 3, and so on. Another reader may rate them A-2, X-4, M-1 and
R-3. The total number of vote-points each story receives from alt letters is
added, and divided by the number of votes, giving the average point score.
Since a reasonably accurate statistical sanTpIing of our “universe” of ' readers
would requii^e about one thousand letters, which we don’t ordinarily get, the
point scores are actually meaningful only to two digits. Thajt usually determines
order of preference, at any rate.

But here are the May scores;

Place

Story

Author

Points

' And Searching Mind (End)

Jack Williamson

1.85

The Rull

A. E. van Vogt

2.25

The Strange Case of John Kingman

Murray Leinster

3.10

The Mechanical Answer

John I>. MacDoiuild

3.60

The Obsolete Weapon

L. Ron Hubbard

3.90

Thl' Editor.

ASTOUNDING SCIENOK-PICTION

BOOK REVIEW

'The Reach of the Mind,” !)y J. B.

Rhine. (William Sloane Asso-
ciates, New York.) Price $3.50.

Reviewed by Jack Williamson

“What are we?” Dr. Rhine in-
quires.

“No one knows,” he replies.

This exciting book, however, tells
of a bold effort, launched by Dr.
Rhine himself, to ask that tremen-
dous question of nature herself,
through the scientific method.

The arresting, if incomplete, an-
swer from the laboratories of para-
psychology at Duke University is
confirmed by other workers at other
centers of learning. Man is more
than a meat machine.

“The Reach of the Mind” is a
broad survey of recent discoveries
which promise a revolution in . sci-
ence and philosophy quite as devas-
tating as the equally uncomfortable
theories of relativity and the quan-
tum touched off soon after 1900.

Dr. Rhine sketches the back-
ground for his now-famous inves-.

tigations, which began in 1930. He
describes the methods used to snare
the most elusive capacities of the
mind for laboratory study, the criti-
cism which greeted publication ol
his first results in 1934, and the
slowly, widening acceptance of para-
psychology as the critics were
answered.

These experiments have estab-
lished two nonphysical capacities of
the mind-— ESP or extrasensory
perception, and PK or psycho-
kinesis. The two are shown to be
so nearly related, logically and ex-
perimentally,. tliat they must be
really one. This ability of the mind
to transcend space and time beyond
the reach of the ordinary senses, to
perceive matter and to act upon it
without the intervention of any
physical medium, has been desig-
nated by the Greek letter psi.

Two phases of the research
aroused criticism. The experiments
themselves, commonly made with
dice or the simple deck of “ESP
cards,” are not spectacular. The
mathematical analysis of the resuUs

BOOK REVIEW

can find a significant meaning in an
apparently small deviation from
random chance. But the critics
have been silenced.

**On the experimental side/' says
a press release authorized in 1937
by the American Institute of Mathe-
matical Statistics, “matlieniaticians,
of course, have nothing to say. On
the statistical side, however; recent
mathematical work has established
the fact that . . . the statistical an-
alysis is essentically valid,”

A vividly convincing aspect of the
evidence is the decline in scoring
rate during every typical experi-
ment. Something ntakes a subject
do his best on the fir.«5t trials after
each pause or cliangc in routine.
No few in the methods could well
account for that. But if the psi
effect belongs to the highest level
of mental activity, as Dr. Rhine
believes, that decline seems a natural
result of fatigue and monotony.

Altogether, the evidence for a
nonphysical phase of mental activity
is convincing. It demands attri-
tion, as unjently as Max I'Janck’s
equally disturbing notion pf the
quantum did in 1900. For it is
nothing freakish or abnormal. Dr.
Rhine has revealed a generally un-
suspected fact about all men.

Psychokinesis must involve a
natural force not known before. .
Its observed effect upon the fall of
di<;« may seem as feeble as tlie
feshes of disintegrating radium
atoms in the spinthariscope. Under
conscious control, however, the psi
capacity would surely be mightier
than nuclear fission. •

The superiority of the psi pro-

cess to space and time su^ests some
sort of survival after death. Dr.
Rhine mentions the possibility of a
psychical continuum, beyond the
narrow domain of physics, which
might have “a transcendent unique-
ness . . . that some might call
divinity.”

b'or all the challenging impor-
tance of such ideas, Dr. Rhine re-
mains sober, fair, and calm. He
seems not merely to be looking for
proof of any wishful preconcepti<Mi,
but rather earnestly seeking scien-
tific truth and ready to abide by his
findings.

He concludes with • a plea for
further research, to establish the
far-rcaching science of the mind he
envisions. Today, as he says, wc
know the atom better tlian the mind
— and atomic knowledge has cre-
ated a desperate need for the higher
ethical power and the new social
feeling he expects from parapsy-
chology.

”. . , And Searching Mind” was
written before I had read this book,
but much of the background is
based on the re.scarches of Dr.
Rhine and his associates. The para-
physiail attributes of mankind are
the final answer to the overgrown
physical science of the humanoids —
and Drv Rhine hopes for a “nuclear
psychology,” which might likewise
rescue niankin<l from the devastat-
ing aftermath of nuclear physics.

The crisis is here. Human power
mu.st rule atomic power — or perish
from this planet. The parapsycho-
Ipgical research .♦ which Dr. Rhine
requests might decide the remotest
future of mankind.

AI^TOtTNDlNG SCIRNOE-FICTIOK

DREADFUL SANCTUARY

BY ERIC FRANK RUSSELL

ConHuding the story of men who did not
want the stars— ^and. the proof that a belief
need not be true to be real — and deadly.

Illustrated by Tlminins

Part JII

After seventeen successive Moon-
rocket disasters, John J. Armstrong,

New York gadgeteer, has uncovered
an international organization re-
sponsible for sabotaging the vessels.

He. has been aided in: his investiga-
tion by Bill Norton, of the HeraJd;

Hansen, a private inquiry agent and
kis secretary Miriam; also by Eddie
Drake,, technician employed bn the
ill-fated rocket number nine; George
Quinn, pUot-to-be of the incom-
pleted rocket number eighteen; and
Claire Mandk, physicist sister of
the mysteriously killed Professor
Robert Mandle, a rocket specialist.

DRSADPUL &\NCT.ITAKY

The mternaiioml saboteurs mas-
querade under the name of the
Norman Club. Politically and finan-
cially pozverfiil, they regard them-
selves as bell-wethers of the world’s
stupid docks and believe themselves
chosen for this function by the bard
facts of history. Armstrong dis-
covers that Hvo of its local notabili-
ties are Senators Lindle and JVorn-
ersley.

While trapped by the Norman
Club, he is told by Lindle that the
world is populated mostly by de-
scendants of intellect uallv defective
outcasts of other planets, the black
races being deported Mcrcurians,
the brown races J'enusians, and the
zvhifc rdees Martians. Only the
yeilozv races, he asserts, are native
Terrestrials. This ancient act of
tri-racial purification tw.r perhaps
the most siiipe^tdous purge in the
history of sentient life and has made
Terra a dreadful sanctuary for the
Solar family's mentally deficient.
On the other planets, it has been of
immense benefit to tke'purged races,
making them almost godlike.

Lindle claims that even among
Earth’s maniacs sanitv remains a
dominant strain so that eventually
the 'zvorld must grozv sane even
though the process be slozv, tortu-
ous and long. He dizides Earth’s
population into a huge majority of
humoral beings called Hu-mans, and
a tiny minority of normal ones
called Nor-mans. Most people, he
maintains, are still insane to vary-
ing degree, but oil members of the
international Nornian Club are com-
pletely sane and can be proved as
such by employing a Martian-de-

signed apparatus kliozvn as the psy-
chotron.

He asserts that the few sane ones
of Earth owe loyalty to none but
their equally sane forefathers on
other planets, and that therefore it
is their hoiinden duty to prevent
rockets reaching the Moon and thus
opening the cosmos to congenital
imbeciles. After forcibly subjecting
Armstrong to the analysis of the
psyehotron, he pronounces him sane
and imntes him to join the Norman
Club.

Armstrong M^as been hunted by
members of an unknozvn gang led
by a sandy-haired man armed with
a new zveapon in the form of a coag-
ulator, and he learns from Lindle
that these are much-feared Martian
Hu-mans, or deportees of recent
date. They know little of the Nor-
mans, but are auA-ious to get back
to Mars and thus favor rocket-
progress. Although Armstrong is
equally in favor, he has fallen foul
of them repeatedly, and some have
been killed. After listening to Lijh
die’s proposition, Armstrong asks
time to think it oz'cr. is set free, and
promptly rejects it as contrarx to
his ozvn inclinations.

Alarmed by the zvorhi's accelerat-
ing psychic trend zvhich favors in-
creased rocket-building despite dis-
asters. the Nonnail Club seeks to
divert it by stirring up a third world
zoar. Realizing that prezious wars
have stimulated scientific progress,
they aim to postpone rocket-ven-
tures indefinitely by prolonging the
zoar until the world is in ruins and
they alone hold the remnants of for-
mer science,

ASTOUNDING S C IITN CE - I'l C TIO N

Armstrong find, his helpers, now
driven underground, wanted by the
police and the. hunted by

Martian Hu-mans and sought for
by the Norman Club, decide that at-
tach is the only defense. Armstrong
goes to IVashington and gains an
interview with General Gregory, an
influential opponent of the sabo-
teurs, tells him all that he has
learned. He indicts Senators Lindle
and Womersley and the entire Nor-
man Club organisation, leat'ing it
to Gregory to take whatci^cr action
lies within his power.

Immediately . afterward, Ar>n-
strong reads g report to the effect
that Claire Mdhdle has disappeared
■and that George Quinn is being
hunted for the murder of Ambrose
Fothergill, director of the rocket-
plant in New Mexico. This is a
mortal blozv to his plans — unless he
moves quickly and hits hard. Sht-
glehanded, he decides to strike at
once at the very root of the opposi-
tion.

XII.

The address shown in the tele-
phone directory proved to be that
of a colonial mansion standing
within high-walled grounds. A
barbed and electrified wire fence
ran along the top of this wall. There
was a small, solidly built lodge at
front, another at back, and each
flanked a pair of enormou^ steel
gates behind which lounged some
decidedly hard-looking eggs. Other
equally tough mugs could be seen
patrolling the grounds beyond the
gates. The whole set-up suggested
that Senator Womersley rated as a

person of considerable imporUnce.

It was obvious to Armstrong that
he must discard his vague notions of
busting into the -dump by means of
any handy door or window. Nor
was there a chance of anyone bull-
ing his way in without getting lead
in the liver for his pains. This was
a situation requiring guile.

“Softly, softly, catchee monkey!”
.he quoted to himself as he ap-
proached the front gates.

The guards alerted when tliey
saw him nearing. He put on his
face an expression which felt stupid
but was intended to .be ingratiating.
One of the guards responded by
spitting contemptuously at a fly on
the lodge wall.

Holding his card through the
thick bars of the gate, Armstrong
spoke as agreeably as possible.
“Would you mind inquiring \yhethcr
Senator Womersley is willing to see
me ?”

Taking the pasteboard, one of the
guards glanc^ at it, demanded,
“You got an appointment?”

“No.”

■ “What d’you want to see him
about ?”

“A matter referred to me by Sen-
ator Lindle.”

“O-K.” He turned toward the
lodge. “You wait there."

The wait lasted half an hour dur-
ing which he stamped impatiently
around and wondered how many
wires were humming with questions
about him. Eventually the guard
came back, surlily unlocked the
gate.

“He’ll see you now.”

Going through, Armstrong fol-

DREADFUr. SANCTUARY

lowed the ollicr to the house. The
gates clanged behind them; it was
an ominous sound, the sort of me-
tallic clamor which heralds the be-
ginning of twenty years in Sing
Sing. Another patrolling guard
crossed their path; he was being
dragged at the end of an anchor-
chain by a dog half the size of a-
horse.

Gaining the building, they waltetf
another live minutes in a gloomy,
oak-paneled hall from one wall of
which the dusty, motli-eaten head
of a moose stared lugubriously
down at them. There were four
giiards stationed in this hall and all
looked as if they’d bteen affected by
long association with the moose.

Finally he was shown into a
lounge where Womersley posed by
the French windows. The senator
turned to examine his caller, reveal-
ing himself as a portly and some-
what pompous personage with ruddy
cheeks and long white hair of the
kind politely called distinguished.

“So youTe Mr. Armstrong?” he
enunciated, pontifically. Taking a
high-backed chair, he seated him-
self carefully and importantly, as
if about to declare this meeting
open. “What can I do for you ?”
Tapping his teeth with a silver i>en-
cil, he regarded his visitor with a
faint air of patronage.

“Not so long ago our mutual
friend Randolph Lindle treated me
to a taste of the psychotroii.” He
eyed Womersley sliarply, “Doubt-
lessly you know alx)ut that?”

Womersley smiled slowly and
went on tapping his teeth. He said:
“Please proceed/'

“You refuse to say?” He
shrugged his shoulders. ‘‘Oh, well,
I guess it doesn’t matter. I assume
that you do know of it.”

“i am interested only in facts,”
Womersley observed. “Your as-
sumptions fail to divert me.”

“Facts interest me likewise^ — cs-
l>ecially the fact that you and Liu-
dle ai)pcar to be the leading lights
of the Norman Club in this coun-
try.”

Still playing with the silver pen-
cil, Womersley smiled again, made
no reply.

“The Norman Club viewed me a.s
a natural,” Armstrong went on.
“Having given me the work.s, the}'
assured me that I’d come back to
them, voluntarily, of my own ac-
cord. I’m sane, you see? I'm bound
eventually to think as they think-
because great minds think alike.”
He paused reflectively. “At that
time I disagreed with them mo.st
emphatically, andT felt certain that
I’d never see things their way, not
if I lived another million years. Put
I was wrong.”

“Ah !” Womer.sley rammed the
pencil into his pocket, clasped his
hands together, put on an I-told-
you-so expression.

“They were right and I was
wrong.” He faced the senator
squarely, his manner deceptively
frank. “It’s not so much that I’ve
had time to think as the fact that
events have compelled me to think.
Sandy-hair’s gang has given me
plenty of food for thought.”.

“Sandy-havr’s?” Womersley was
mystified.

“I’m being hunted by a crazy

ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

crowd who claim to be Martians
lately deported ffom Mars/’

“Hu-mans,” ‘defined Womersley.
He made a clicking noise with his
tongue. “What they lack in nitm-
])ers they make up for in capabili-
ties. This place of mine is wdl
guarded because you’re not the only
one they’d like to get at.”

“Anyway, they convinced me
where Lindle failed. So I’ve come
back.”

In silence, .Womersley studied
him for a while. Then he turned
round in his chair, flipped a little
lever set in the wall. For the first
time, Armstrong noticed that there
was a diamond pattern of small per-
forations in the wall beneath the
lever and a small lens .above it.

“Well?” said Womersley to the
wall.

'Tt’s him allj. fight,” assured a
tinny voice froth the perforated dia-
mond.

“Thanks!” Reversing the lever,
the senator turned back and faced
his visitor.

“New York identification?” Arm-
strong suggested.

“Certainly I” He contemplated
the ceiling while he continued speak-
ing. “The psychotron identifies
sanity. No more than that. It dqes
not classify opinions. Even the sane
may hold differing opinions about
some things-rthpugh not those
opinions peculiar to the insane. You
realize that, of course?”

“Yes, I do.” ,

“Therefore you will also realize
that you can’t just jump aboard the
l>and wagon the.' moment you con-

sider yourself entitled to do so. A
declaration of change of heart is not^
sufficient for us. It is far from suf-
ficient.”

“I liad guessed that in advance.
You will want me to prove that my
notions really are what they purport
to be. I shall have to assassinate
the President or do something
equally desperate;”

“You are not without perspi-
cacity,” Womersley conc^ed. “T^t
is to be e.Kpected considering that
you are a Xor-man by nature. It
now remains to be seen whether you
are also one by inclination. We can
find you a task the satisfacto^ per-
formance of which — ”

“You need not bother about con-
cocting a test of my loyalty,” Arm-
strong put in swiftly. “The second
reason why I wished to see you is
because 1 now have the proof ready
and prepared.”

Womersley’s ev'es glowed, and his
voice lost its suavity. “What will be
accqrtable will be tliat which cor-
responds with our definition of
l>roof — not yours 1”

“Maybe. But in this instance the
proof is something you’ll have to
take up whether you like it or not.
You can’t afford to let it go.. To let
if pass would send even the psycho-
tron daffy!”

Standing up, his posture irefully
important, Womersley snapped':
“Be more explicit 1”

“They’re building rocket eighteen
in New Mexico. It’s cheese in the
inou.setrap, as ,you most certainly
know. It’s a decoy to draw certain
parties away from - nineteen and

DBBADFUL SAN-CTUART

twenty which are being built else-
where/'

“So far, you have told me noth-
ing."

“ni tell you soiiiething now — all
three of those rockets might as well
be tossed on the scrap-heap/’

The senator's face was cold as
he said: “Is that all?”

“Not by a long shot !” He grinned
his satisfaction. “You shouldn’t
make assumptions yourself, you
know I I didn’t mean that they’re ^
useless because the Norman Club is
going to bust them when the time
is ripe. On the contrary, they’re no
better than scrap because they’re
hopelessly outdated.”

“Eh ?” \^ onvei slev breathed heav-
ily. “What d'you mean by that?”
“Somehow ... I don’t know how
. . . one of those Martian nuts got
himself deported along with plans'
of a super-dooper scout job.” He
watched with pleasure as the other’s
florid complexion deepened and his
eyes widened in -incredulity. “You
can understand why he did it seeing
that every one of them is itching
to get back home. It's a seven-
man-crew contraption, and it’s
umpteen centuries ahead of any-
thing we’ve got. He claims that it
can be constructed in ten weeks,
given the facilities. We can be on
Mars — let alone the Moon — sooner
than you think!”

Womersley’s face was now a dull
purple. His breath wheezed deeply.
The fury boiling within him was
amazing for one of his appearance.
Controlling himself with an ef-

fort, he rasped: “Where did you
get all this?”

“It was offered me for two rea-
sons. Firstly, it was known that I’m
violently in favor of going places as
fast as possible. Secondly, it was
believed that I might be able to pull
enough strings to get the facilities
necessary for building the ship. If
can’t, or won’t, the escapee takes
his plans ^o Britain, France, Russia
or anywhere else where he can get
co-operation.”

“Co on.” Womersley ordered,
grimly.

“This guy has reneged on his
gang — Sandy-hair’s gang. Or maybe
odd deportees have failed to contact
other, better organized ones. He's
looking after himself, see? He
wants help to build a scout job.
lie's got the plans — and he’s got a
price for them.”

" “What is it?”

“A firm/ guarantee that he’ll Ije
taken to Mars, will be released im-
mediately on arrival, and that no
mention will be made of him to the
Martians.” He made an explana-
tory gesture. “The boy is home-
sick.”

“Where are the plans now?”

“He's sticking to them.”

Gazing at him steadily and delib-
erately, eye to eye, Womersley
harshed, “All this could be true.
Yes, it could be — knowing what I
do know. What I’m far from sat-
isfied about is W'hy vou opposed us
so long before you come to us run-
ning.”

■“I dismissed the Norman Club
because I couldn’t believe all this
Martian-origin stuff. It was con-

ASTOUNDING SCIBNCE-PICTION

trary to everything I’d learned,
everything I knew.” He stood up,
shoved his hands into his pockets.
“But now I’ve learned a lot more.
I’ve been sniped at and I’m still be-
ing gunned for, so that for me the
whole affair is no longer a matter of
truth or untruth, but rather of life
or death.”

“Yes, but—” '

“The snag I'm up against now is
that of convincing this fellow hold-
ing the plans that Tve got political
connections powerful enough to get
ills rocket built in double-quick time.
If I don’t convince him, off go the
plans heaven knows where — and
somebody’s sure to use them. So
this is where you come in,”

“Me?”

“Yes. He knows of you as a
considerable political influence in
Washington. He doesn’t know
about the Norman Club, much less
your connection with it. Being a
Hu-man^ he’d be mighty leery of
Nor-mans, anyway. Having taken
a chance on me, he’ll take one on
any big enough political figure
standing behind me. You’ve got to
tell him you can find a million dol-
lars to splurge on his rocket. You’ve
got to persuade him to hand over
those plans.”

A conflict of emotions twisted the
senator’s plump features. Appre-
hension, suspicion, desire — all were
there. He paraded several times up
and down the room before speaking.

“Where and in* what circum-
stances cjin you make contact with
this individual ?”

“He’s going to phone my New
DKBADFUL 8AVC!TUAav

York apartment before twelve to-
morrow,”

"Your apartmient is burned
• down.”

Ohj so you know that! thought
Armstrong. Glibly, he said: “I’ve
got another, of course. D’you think
I’d sleep in the fields ?”

“What if he has phoned already,
while you are here?”

“He’ll get no reply and will call
again later. But wjien he does, you
had better be there too \ Or Lindle.
I don’t care which of you it may be,
^o long as it’s one or the other. To
bring this fish in needs better bait
on the hook than I can provide.”
“Armstrong,” pronounced Wom-
ersley, with sudden decision, “I’m
enough of a political picture to be
framed. In fact, some have tried
it — to their everlasting regret 1” He
stuck out his chest as if he’d have,
beaten it if only he’d been adorned
in a tiger-skin. “So take warning —
any funny business will be liable to
boomerang on you ! I’m going to
come in with you on this plan-ques-
tion, not because I fully believe you,
but solely because it could be trae
and, if it is, it’s far too momentous
to ignore. We just can’t afford to
ignore it!”

“That’s what I thought.”

“And that’s what I know you’ve
been thinking !” Womersley re-
torted. “Therefore, I’m coming in
my way, and not yours! If this
story proves to be an elaborate gag”
— he paused, his face hard — “it will
be your last such one on this world
or any other !”

“And if it’s not a ^g, if it proves
fls

genuine, the Norman Club takes me
to its collective bosom ?”

“Yes ” Ringing a deskbell, Wom-
ersley spoke to the guard who re-
sponded. “Have Mercer get the
car ready. Tell Jackson, Hardacre
and Wills that they’re coming with
me to New York pronto.” He
waited until the other had gone,
then said to Armstrong, “lliose
four will accompany us. They’re
so touchy they start shooting if
someone grits his teeth. Hear that
in mind !”

“X won’t forget,” Armstrong
promise. , .

He resumed his seat while Wom-
ersley made ready for departure.
His broad, heavy face held a hungry
look. As a crocodile, he’d put* over
a good imitation of a Ic^I

They piled into a big, silver-gray
Cadillac with Mercer behind the
wheel and Jackson sitting by his side.
^Armstrong’s large - pants pressed
the middle of the back scat where .
he was jammed between Woniersley
and Wills. The folding occasional
scat facing the rear three was taken
by Hard^re, a craggy personage
who obviously regarded his position
as strategical and viewed the pas-
senger as a prisoner. He favored
the latter with a belligerent stare.
Armstrong stared back at him,
sniffed a couple of times, then
sneezed.

Pulling away from the fortress-
like estate, the powerful machine
swooped northward. Armstrong
sniffed at frequent intervals, sneezed
a couple more times. Pressed closely
against hiui, AVomersley fidgeted

with distaste but made no remark.
Hardacre eyed him as if the free
distribution of germs were a hostile
act.

“Got plenty wet in that storm,”
Armstrong mourned to nobody hi
I>articular. “I’ll be dead with pneu-
monia before we get there . . .
A-a-arshooT He jerked with the
violence of his sneeze, leaned hard
on Wills, struggled to extract a
handkerchief from his right-hand
pocket.

Plardacre’s eyes glittered as he
waited for the handkerchief to ap-
Ijcar. He seemed to be expecting
the sufferer to produce an^fthing
from a rattlesnake to a field howit-
zer. Emitting an irritate<l grunt,
Womerslcy edged away, giving the
heaving Armstrong room to get at
the pocket.

Drawing out the handkerchief
with a triumphant flourish, Arm-
strong wrapped it around his nose
and bugled vigorously. At the
same moment, a tiny metab cylinder
slid up his right nostril. Holding
the handkerchief on his lap, he
blinked owlishly at Hardacre.

After another ten miles, he re-
sumed his sniffing, doing it through
ihc nostril yet unblocked. Then lie
coughed, gobbled like a turkeycook
and hurriedly employed the handker-
chief to choke another sneeze. The
second cylinder slid ffp the other
nostrik Hardacre’s gaze remained
fixed upon him. He gasped a cou-
]4e of times, coughed again, leaned
on Womerslcy. while he fought to
get at his left-hand pocket.

Hardacre snapped at Wills: ‘T

ASTOUNDIKG SCIKNCK-PICTIOX

don’t like this song and dance. See
what he’s diving for now.”

Raising himself clumsily in the
swaying car, Wills forced a hairy
hand into the pocket, dragged out
another handkerchief and a bunch
of keys. Ilardacre registered acute
disappointmeiit.-

Hoarsely murmuring, “Tlianks!”
Armstrong mopped his nose with
the second haiidkerchief, jingled
the keys, smiled broadly at hTard-
acre. That worthy scowled, turned
his gaze away for. the first time, and
stared out of the;, window. .

^Armstrong .sighed, began to
sctatch.his knees. He did it absent-
mindedly, sniffing, and wheezing at
intervals, while the others continued
pointedly to ignore him. His fingers
scratched and tapped and played
nervously until finally he got the
phial loose, from, its knee-*strap and
felt it slide down the leg of his
pants. . The slender glass tube fell
silently onto the. carpeted floor and
none heard the sound of it as it
.splintered under his heel.

•The Cad ruslied onward and cov-
ered eight more miles in nine min-
utes before things began to happen.
■Womersley, who had slowly slumped
in his seat, suddenly made loud bub-
bling noises through pur^d lips. At
the opposite end of. the seat, Wills
lolled against Armstrong and swayed
heljilessly with the motion of the
car. ‘

With a shari> preliminary swerve,
the big machine, commenced to wan-
der at high speed, all over the road.
With vague alarm battling the urge
lo slumber, Hardacre fought to
awake and make action. His hands

I)RE-M>PUL S-ANOTITARV

moved slothfully and uncertainly as
they sought for his gun.

Lifting a columnar leg, Arm-
strong put .his big foot on Hard-
acre’s stomach and shoved. The
breath whooshed out of the other.
He fell forward, sobbed for air on
the carpet. Fumes rising from the
crystals on the floor filled his lungs,

Leaning over him, Armstrong
snatched the nodding Mercer bodily
from under the wheel, tossed him
onto Womersley’s lap. The Cadil-
lac yawed, headed toward a bank.
Bending further, forward, he
grabbed the wheel, straightened the
onnishing machine. He held'it thus
a moment, knowing that with no
foot on the accelerator its automatic
gears had slipped into neutral. It
slowed. In the seat beside that
lately warmed by Mercer, the semi-
dnigged Jackson pawed at him
feebly. ; Still holding the wheel
with his left hand, he slugged Jack-
son behind the ear with flis right.

Reluctantly the Cad drift^ to a
stop. Putting on the handbrake, he
got out, elefeed the door behind him,
sat on the bank and enjoyed a cigar-
ette while the supine passengers
continued- to stew in the fumes.
Once Wills tolled his head lacka-
daisically ; once Womersley made a
feeble gesture in his sleep, but after
five more minutes they reseinbled
a load of corpses.

With the little filters out of his
nose and back in his handkerchief,
Armstrong opened all the doors, let
the wind dear the car. He swept
out a few undissolved crystals.
Keeping a careful watch on the

road lest he be subjected to the un-
welcome attentions of other motor-
ists, he lifted out all but Womersley,
bore them swiftl\- one by one up the
bank, parked them side by side
where they VI be out of sight from
the highway. As an afterthought,
he picked a convenient weed, placed
it in Hardacre's hand. Returning
to the car, he rolled \\ omersI#y onto
the floor, closed and Jot'ked the rear
.doors, got into the front scat and
tlrove onward at top speech

His mad pace would have inter-
ested the police had he not .‘slowed
down twice in precisely the right
places. He nished the Cad as if
every secoml were costing him a
thousand dollars. 'J'hrce times he
stopped ; once for gas, once to send
a wire postponing his appointment
with the general, and once to quiet
his slowly reviving passenger. All
tliese pauses meant trouble. He had
to shoo off a nosey gas-statiou at-
tendant. He had to tell a talc of
drunkenness to a passer-by ncir the
post office. As for the last, Womcr-
sley's dim awakening indicated that
the tricked guards likewise would be
recovering and that the hue and
cry would begin as soon as they
could start it.

Womersley settled down under a
second dose of dope. He gave the
senator a long sh<it of it, enough 1o
keep him peaceful for most of the
njght. The rest of the journe)- was
covered without mishap, and he
tooled tlie car through New Jersey
with a' feeling of satisfaction whicli
greu' a.s he neared- Drake’s' home.

Ed Drake answeri»<l die door.

took one look, exclaimed, “Jeepers!
I thought you’d been buried !*’

"I’m in trouble, Ed. I want you
to help me out."

"What’s wrong now ?” His wan-
dering eyes suddenly found Woiu-
ersley rqxising in the back of the
car and pain sprang into his lean
features. “Hey. are yon carrying a
stiff"’

‘'No --hc‘s all out, I’d like you to
take him off my liands a short
whiki." Unlocking the rear door,
he prixccded to lug the senator
from tlur oar. He Iwuided the body
to the surprised Dnike as if bestow-
ing a gift. “Toss him on a bed and
let him .snore until I return. T'll be
back before long — f'li ex]>hun every-
thing then."

Holding the sagging Womersley
witli dilficulu- and without enthu-
siasm, Drake said: “I hope this is
on the ni) and up?"

“Don’t worry, Ed, Put him out
of sight until I return, be.

all right. You know mo."

"Yeah. I know you- -that's what Vs
got me worried," IVrake widk«l
backward through the door; drag-
ging the senator with him.

The • Cadillac started up. and
Armstrong whirled it aw:i}'. Ho
took the bottom corner on two
wheels. Behind him, Kd Drake
j>ccre<l sourly from the door until
the fast moving car was out of
sight. Then he slmiggcd, closed the
door, lugged his unconscious vi.s-
itnr upstairs.

It was. four hours and tweiitv
minutes later when Armstrong re-
appeared. Heavy-footed and tired.

ASTOUNDING SCIKNCK-FTCTTON

he lumbered in, dumped a big black looked at the clock again. "I could
box on the floor, glanced at the have been back an hour ago if it
clock which showed the hour of hadn’t been necessary to‘ dump his
midnight. car in New York where they’ll be

"Has that body become animated sure to find it. I had to skip from
yet?” one taxi to another to return.”

"No,” said Drake. “He’s sleep- "You dixmped his car?” Ed
ing like he’d been drugged.” Drake’s voice went up in pitch.

“Which he has.” “D’you mean it was hot? Have you

“Eh?” Drake let his mouth dan- kidnaped this guy? What the heck’s
gle. “Who drugged him?” going on around here ?”

“Me.” He smiled at the other’s “Take it easy, Ed. The gentle-
expression. “I had to do it to get man is Senator Womersley, and
him all to myself.” He sighed, he’s paying us an im'oluntary visit.”

DREADFUL SANCTUAEX AST— 4X »»

Drake jumped. *‘Womersley! I
thought his fat face looked famil-
iar !'* He ^avcd worried hands.
“Hell’s bells, John, they’ll give you
life for this. What the deuce pos-
sessed you to snatch a guy like him ?
Why drag me into it?"

“You’ll see.” His foot poked the
heavy box he’d brought in. “That
is one of the only ten electronic
schizophrasers in existence. I had
to borrow it at short notice, and
after plenty of argument, from old
Professor Shawbury, at Columbia.
The original model is still in my lab
at Hartford — but I can’t go there
to collect it.”

“Why not?”

“Because, brother, I suspect that
traps await me at every- one of my
oldtime haunts. That’s one reason
why I’ve had to come to you. I’ve
seen you about four times in the
last seven years, and this house of
yours never was a regular calling-
place of mine.” He studied the
mystified Drake keenly. “The other
reason is that after some thought'
I’ve decided that I trust you — as far
as anyone can be trusted these crazy
times.”

“That’s nice! That’s very nice!
When I’m doing my twenty years
in the cell next to yours, it’ll be
good to remember that at least you
trusted me.!”

Armstrong said, harshly: “Ed,
if I don’t get to the bottom of this,
neither you nor I nor millions of
others may live long enough to do
twenty years any place.” He made
an impatient gesture. “Where’s the
body?”

“Upstairs on the front bed.”

Drake trailed after him moodily,
helped him carry the senator down.
He made.no attempt to conceal his
doubt, and apprehension as he
watched the other tic the victim in
a chair.

Moving with businesslike effici-
ency, Armstrong opened the box,
pulled from it a compact piece of
apparatus resembling a portable
short-wave therapy set. It had a
tiny silver-tube antenna and a simi-
lar half-wave reflector set on either
side of a plastic cup at the end of
four yards of coaxial cable.

Putting the cup on Womersley’s
head, he adjusted the antenna and
reflector with great care. Finally
satisfied that the two tubes were
located precisely where he wanted
them with respect to the subject’s
cranium, he strapped them in posi-
tion, made sure that no movement
of the slumbering senator’s head
could dislodge them by a fraction.

Next, he connected the apparatus
to a power-plug set in the wall, dis-
connected the coaxial cable, switched
on, checked operation. Reconnect-,
ing the antenna lead, he fiddled with
matching transformers at both ends
of it, then switched off. He flopped
into a seat, glowered at the uncon-
scious Womersley.

“All we’ve got to do now is wait
for this fat schemer to \rake up,”

Drake found another cHhir, low-
ered himself into it uneasily. “I
wish you wouldn’t use so much ‘we’
stuff. This is all your play, not
mine.” He surveyed the apparatus
and chewed at his bottom lip, “What
will that do to him?”

“Nothing harmful. So far as I’m

ASTOUNDING SCIBNCB-FICTIOir

concerned, it’s a sample of tit for
tat. His crowd put me under a con-
traption called a psychotron. I’m
putting him under this dingbat
which, in its own peculiar way, is
more efficient.”

“Well, what is it?” Drake per-
sisted.

“A microwave schizopliraser. A
kind of transmitter. It sprays oscil-
lations on the neural band. You
know that tliouglits are electrical in
nature, don’t you ?”

Drake nodded.

“This thing is no more than a
simple jammer of thought-proc-
esses. Its beauty is that it can be
made to muddle-up only the rational-
izing sector of the human brain,
leaving the motor ganglions, the
memory sector and other parts free
to operate spontaneously.”

“If I’m right,” suggested Drake,
“that’ll fill the guy with involuntary
reactions. It will make him a spas-
nijc. Where’s the sense of that?”

“It won’t make him a spasmic. It
has no permanent effects. The
gadget is nothing" more than some-
thing ten times better than a lie^
detector. A person questioned while
under its influence is mentally in-
capable of refusing, concealing or
distorting whatever information is
lying latent in his memory sector.
When asked, he cannot help but
respond with what he knows to be
the truth or sincerely believes to be
the. truth. If he hasn’t.got the an-
swer, he doesn’t reply — he can’t
substitute a false or misleading item
of infonnation.” He waved a re-
assuring hand. “The worst that
can happen to this political sped-

DRBADPUL SANCTUARY

men is'tliat for once in his life he
may blurt out some awkward facts.
Not so very terrible, is it?”

“He’ll take off your hide for it,
all the same. He’ll make you die the
death of a thousand cuts first chance
he gets.” Drake had another go at
his bottom lip while he stared at
the senator. His eyes grew round.
“Look, he’s waking now !”

Going across to the chair, Arm-
strong slapped Womersley’s face
gently but firmly. The senator
snorted, mumbled, Iialf-opeiied his
eyes, closed them, opened them
again. Taking his hands, Armstrong
rubbed them vigorously.- Womers-
ley gulped, yawned, tried: to move
within his bonds, looked slightly
stupefied when he found himself
tied down. Pulling his hands out of
Armstrong’s grasp, he muttered
peevishly :

“Where . . . am I ? What’s hap-
pening ?”

Switching on the apparatus. Arm-,
strong ; watched the politician’s
florid features. Drake likewise
studied them, his own expressing
anxiety.

Womersley put out a dry tongue,
drew it in again, gaped around with
optics wliich gradually grew dazed.
He tried to lift his hands and failed,
A few seconds later, his stare was
as comprehending as that of a vil-
lage idiot.

In a loud, clear voice, Armstrong
snapped at him : “Who killed Am-
brose Fothergil! ?”

Womersley was silent a moment,
then croaked : “Muller.”

“On whose orders?”

101

Again the silence. Womersley
seerried to be having a psychic battle
within himself despite the jamming
of his reasoning processes. Instinct
was substituting here— the ancien^
law of self-presen ation. He blinked
at his questioner as if he couldn’t
see him.

“Mine,” he said. “Mine . . .
mine !”

“Jerusalem !” breathed Drake,
looking on. -

Sternly, Armstrong continued :
“Then why did George Quinn take
it on the run? Was he framed?
Did he realize that he’d been
framed ?”

M^omersley made no reply.
Putting it in a different way,
Armstrong demanded : “Did yon
give any orders concerning Quinn ?”
“Yes.”

“What were they?”

“He was to be taken , away.”
“By whom? By Muller?”

“By Muller, Healy and Jacques,”
“This always is somewhat tedi-
ous,” Armstrong obsert^ed to Drake,
“because he’s conditioned to answer
only the bare question and he wpn’t
volunteer anything more. I’ll have
to drag data out of him item by
item.” Then, to Womersley; “Why
did you order them to take Quinn
away ?”

“it did two jobs at one stroke.”
“What were they?”

“It made it look as if Quinn had
lammed and therefore was guilty.
And it got rid of him.”

“Why did you want to get rid of
Quinn?”

“He was the official pilot.”

"To what place has he been

taken ?” Armstrong’s hard optics
were fixed on the senator as he
waited for the response.

There was no response.

“Don’t you know?”

“No.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried- it
another way. “To whom has he
been taken ?”

“To Singleton.”

“Who is Singleton ?”

“The Norman Club director in
Kansas City,” Womersley mur-
mured. His head lolled forward,
was brought up sluggishly.

“Do you know where Singleton
has hidden him?”

“No.”

“Do you know whether he is
alive or dead ?”

“No.” -

“Why did ycai order Fothergill's
death?”

“He was one of us — a Nor-nian.
He was sane. But he lacked courage.
He let us down.”

“So ?’’

Womersley said nothing. He ap-
peared to be in a semislumber.

Between his teeth, Armstrong
gave forth: “Enough of that. We'll
jump to the next subject.” In louder
voice, he pressed : “Where is Claire
Mandle ?”

“I don’t know.”

“Has the Norman Club any hand
in her disappearance?”

“I don’t know.”

Suppres.'iing his surprise, he con-
tinued: “If your New York mob
had taken her, would you have been
informed of it?”

“Not necessarily.”

ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

Frowning, he said to Drake: “We
can learn something even from neg-
ative responses. He doesn't know
what Singleton has done with
Quinn, nor what Lindle’s crowd in
New York are up to. He’s a pretty
fat frog in this Norman Club pud-
dle but isn’t informed on everything
concerning it. Therefore, big as he
is, he’s not Mister Big! He’s high
up — but someone else is higher !”

“Ask him,” Drake suggested,
with perfect logic.

“Who is the leader of the Nor-
man Club in the United States?”

Womersley sagged in his chair,
behaved as if deaf.

“Some gadget,” Drake offered,
sardonically. “It makes him con-
fess all.”

“It can’t make him tell what he
doesn’t know,” Armstrong retorted.
He questioned the victim in differ-
ent terms. “Is there a national
leader of the Norman Club in this
country?”

■“No.”

He favored Drake with an I-told-
you-so glance before carrying on
with: “Who’s the Norman Club
boss in Washington?”

“Me.”

“And in New York?”

“Lindle.”

“And Singleton’s the boss in
Kansas City ?”

“Yes.”

“Who is boss in Chicago?”

“I don’t know.”

“He doesn’t know,” Armstrong
observed. “You see the significance
of that? It’s the cell technique I The
boss of each cell functions as con-
tact man with two or three other

cells, the rest remaining unknown
to him. Nobody can betray more'
than his immediate fellows and
maybe' another cell or two— where-
upon the remainder take revenge.
Surviving cells avenge those gone
under. The sane maintain discipline
in the same manner as the insane,
namely, by fear of reprisals.” He
stamped up and down the room.
“That means that elsewhere the
Norman Clubs don’t all function
openly as Norman Clubs, and that
some are masquerading in other
guises — yogi cults, or heaven knows
what. I could do with an army,
Ed, a veritable army 1 And it
would have to be an international
one at that!”

“It sure looks like you’re trying
to bite off more than you can chew.”

“I am — but I’ve gone too far to
withdraw even if I wished to. I’m
like a python who’s locked his jaws
on an antelope ten sizes too large
for him — I’ve got to go on even if
I bust!” He tramped backwards
and forwards worriedly. “Suppos-
ing that in some miraculous' manner
I bumped this cynical old geezer
and all his guards and all Ws Wash-
• ington followers — what then? Lin-
dle and his mob continue to func-
tion. So do a hundred or more
similar cells scattered over this
country. So do a thousand or more
distributed over the rest of the
globe.” He screwed his right fist
into his left palm. “It’s like trying
to overthrow international Bud-
dhism in one week. It can’t be
done—- but it’s got to be done !”

“I don’t see why.” Drake scowled
at the -sagging senator, then -at the

DRKADFUD SANCTUARY

198

sdwzophraser, then at the clock. He
' suppressed a desire to yawn. “If
you’re yearning for a fight, why
don’t you get married?’’

“This isn’t funny, Ed. It’s as
unfunny as the robot-rocket and
the atom bomb. It’s as unfunny as
bacteriological warfare, starvation,
pestilence and the final collapse of
civilization.’’ He paused, hot eyes
on his listener who looked a little
abashed. “If you don’t believe it,
get a load of this!” Turning to the
man in the chair, he said, sharply:
“Womersley, are the international
influences of the world’s Norman
Clubs striving to bring about a major
war?”

“Yes.” The speaker’s voice was
automatic, toneless, and his face
was relaxed into near-dopiness.

“Why?”

*^e're at the last ditch.”

“What d’you mean by that?” .

“They’ll get . . . they’ll get their
Moon rockets away.” He was
mumbling haltingly now. “Maniacs
. . . loose in the cosmos . . . Con-
genital maniacs . . . snatching at the
stars . . . unless we can start them
. . . killllig . . . each other.” The
senator ended with a low gasp and
his head sank.

Armstrong leaped forward,
switched off the schizophraser.
“Brain-strain,” he explained to the
alarmed Drake. “He’s endured the
jamming too long and his mind has
found refuge in unconsciousness.
He’ll get over it.” Taking the plas-
tic cap from the victim’s head, he
put the cap on the floor, propped the
head with a cushion. “He's out of
that drug, but the neural impulses

1&4

have pat him in>a haze again. He’ll
need a little sleep to recover.” Dis-
contentedly, he eyed his dead ap-
paratus. “Darn it, I could get tea
times as much out of him if only
his mind would stand the strain.”

“What’s all this gabble about the
Norman Club, anyway?” Drake in-
quired.

Armstrong gave him the wh<^e
story as swiftly and briefly as he
could, and finished, “They have not
got complete power in this country
— yet ! We’re a democracy, which
means they stand to gain power
most anyfime, when circumstances
favor them. Even now, as a strong,
influential and ruthlc.ss minority
they've enough pull to divert our
destiny one way or the other. Gov-
ernmental keyposts are held by their
nominees, and departments have a
quota of their members. Remem-
ber, Ed, that these Norman fanatics
can be Democrats, Republicans dr
even Tibetan lamas; they can opei'-
ate under any fancy tag which hap-
pens to suit their purpose at any
given moment — though, all the time,
htndamentally, they are Nor-mans,
the sifperiors of Hu-mans !”

“Swami-stuff !” defined Drake,
contemptuously. “That’s not strong
enough to start world-wide wars.”

“Don’t kid yourself*! We aren’t
alone in this cockeyed-world. There
are other nations, other peoples ani-
mated by other ideas of destiny. In
some of them these Nor-mans may
have less influence than they have
here — but are fighting to get it! In
some, they may have more power.
In a few, they may be in complete

ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

command. And it needs only one
country to start a war — not two or
more. One country, determined to
start a holocaust, can begin the
bloodbath. Germany did it und^r
Hitler — and he was as fantastic a
visionary as this fat chump .or any
of his Norman Qub buddies. Ger-
many marched into hell and pulled
half the world with her — all for the
sake of a mighty obsession.”
“But—”

“Look, Ed, suppose that Ger-
many's eighty million Nazis had
been not a nation but an interna-
tional cult. Suppose that they’d
gained control of two or three coun-
tries at least one of which had high
military potential. Suppose that
they were in near-control of most
other countries and formed a gigan-
tic and redoubtable Fifth Column in
what part of, the world remained —
d’you think they might have won
their war?”

“They’d still have lost it,” Drake
declared without hesitation.

“Maybe they would; but they’d
have taken a heck of a lot longer to
lose it and would have exacted a
price infinitely heavier from the
world as a whole. However, that’s
not the point.” He tapped Drake’s
arm to emphasize his words. “The
point is that these Norman crack-
pots cannot lose a war.”

“They can’t — !” began Drake,
ircfully.

“Did Orientals lose the last war?”
“A silly question. The last scrap
was between the democracies and
the totalitarians.”

“With the Chinese on our side

»»*ADrUL 6AKCTUART

and the Japs on the other. There
were Orientals on’ both sides — so,
taking them as a whole, they couldn’t
lose.” His voice slowed down, be-
came more empliatic. “Get it into
your head, Eddie, that these Nor-
man cultists are as completely in-
ternational as short-haired dogs —
and have as few real loyalties.
Their purpose is to start a war big
enough to put an effective brake on
what they choose to regard as an un-
desirable form of progress. Which
side nominally wins and which nom-
inally loses matters not a hoot to
them so long as the general wreck-
age is enough for their purpose.
Why should they care who stands
torn and tattered on the field of
battle and claims to be the winner —
they’re on both sides !”

“I think you credit them with
more power than they’ve got. The
world’s masses won’t rush into uni-
form and die by the millions merely
because an obscure gang of lunatics
want them to do so.”

“Won’t they?” Armstrong’s smile
was lopsided and lugubrious. ”A11
you have to do is invent a devil
with which to scare the millions, use
every available channel of propa-
ganda to convince them that said
devil exists and that it’s an awful
thing, and finally persuade them
tliat a fate worse than death awaits
them if they don’t fight it with all
they’ve got.” He clicked his tongue
sardonically. “Whereupon they
fight like wildcats !”

Drake was indignant. “Are j’ou
suggesting that in the last war our
boys fought and died for nothing?”
“Not at all ! Quite the contrary !

106

Bat .for what .^as the other side
fighting?**

Drake went silent, thoughtful.

*‘As I have said/* Armstrong
persisted, “it needs only one coun-
try to start it. The others then
have to fight to stop it. And any
devil will do to get some mob in
murderous mood. The Germans
fought frenziedly against the imagi-
nary demon called Encirclement.
For fifty yfears or more the Russkies
have held themselves ready to battle
a fiend called Capitalism. There
was a time when Christians fought
bloodily against a foe named Islam.
If, after due preparation through
the world’s propaganda-channels,
tonight’s radio dramatically sum-
moned everyone to prepare to de-
f«id themselves against Technocrat
invaders from Alpha Centauri,
tiious^ds of credulous listeners
would reach for their guns. Do you
recair those people who wanted to
exterminate each other over the
question of whether a boiled egg
should be cracked at the big end
or the little?”

“Shut up!” suggested Drake.
“You turn my stomach. You talk
like one of these Nor-mans — you’re
saying that we’re all nuts !”

“What if we are? Maybe these
Norman cultists are correct ; maybe
this world is a cosmic madhouse, a
sort of dreadful sanctuary for the
solar system’s idiots — but is that
any reason why the inmates should
sit and sulk in a comer? Maybe
ninety per cent of we Terrestrials
are just plain daffy, but what good
will it do us to roam around our

sss

cell and mope about it? That*t
where I and the Norman Qub part
o)mpany. If the loonies can hurt
qtit, I say good luck to them!** Ht
pondered a few seconds, added:
“Anyway, I’m not satisfied with a
psy^otron's arbitrary definitions of
sanity and insanity, neither am I
convinced that Martians, Venusians
and Mercurians — if they really exist
— are paragons of virtue when com-
pared with us.”

“You're selling me. What now?**

“You need to know all these
things, Ed, because you’ve got to
help me.’*

“In what way?**

“I must milk this white-haired
old schemer of all he knows even if
he collapses ten times during the
process. I’ve got to make contact
with some friends lying low in
New York. 'I’ve got to discover
what has happened to Claire
Handle, and I’ve got to figure some
way of getting George Quinn out
of bad. And that’s not all, in fact
it’s not half of it; I must find some
way of getting the police and the
F.B.I. off my neck. Finally, if it*i
possible, I’ve got to pull a fast one
on the international Norman Club
before they pull a fast one on the
w’orld!”

“Three-quarters of which if
totally impossible,” declared Drake,
positively. “You might just as
well give yourself up and let matters
take their course.**

“Not while I've feet in my
socks!” He studied Womersley
as that individual suddenly com-
menced to snore. “He’s recovering
all right. I want you to hang onto

ASTOUNDIKa SCIBNCB-PICTIOV

him for me, Ed ; liang onto him at
aU costs for at least twenty-four
hours. Don’t let him get away
from you even if you have to bash
out his brains!”

“Are you going again?”

“I’m beating it across the river
for reinforcements. Have you got
a car you can lend me?”

“The Lincoln. It’s around the
back.” Drake gloomed at his sleep-
ing prisoner. “Oh, well — kismet !
Reckon I’d better frisk him in case
he’s carrying something unpleasant.”
“I searched him before we got
here. He’s carrying nothing. If
he wakes up and starts bawling
about his authority, hammer on his
noggin I”

Hastening around the back, he
found the Lincoln, took it away
fast. It was three-forty in the
morning by the clock on the dash-
board, and the Moon was riding
high as he pointed his bonnet to-
ward the Hudson. “Three-tjuarters
... is impossible,” Drake had re-
marked. As one of those con-
cerned with an earlier, ill-fated
rocket-shot, Drake tended to be
pessimistic. There was another
viewpoint, older, better established,
namely, that nothing is impossible.

Least of all a cosmic prison-
break I

XIV

The choice lay between .two
possible contact-points — Norton or.
Miriam. If Hansen had not yet
got in touch with Norton, and if
the leery Miriam already had
skipped, neither of these points
would prove of any use. It was a

DRKADFUL SANCTUAR’t

waste of valuable time Trying to
think up a third way of finding
Hansen without first testing these
ready-made alternatives.

Miriam would be b,est for the
first attempt, he decided. Parking
the Lincoln near a phone booth, he
tried the number which had got
him through to lier on the previous
occasion. There was a long wait
while the automatic system main-
tained its persistent buzs-huss at
the other end of the line. He
listened uneasily, his eyes constantly
searching the empty street.

Eventually there came a sharp
click, the screen swirled, Miriam
appeared in it. She looked
dishevelled and liverish — there was
no evidence of her afternoon gla-
mour at this hour when dawn was
breaking in the east.

“ ’Lo, Splendiferous!” he hailed.
“How’re your poor dogs?”

“What d’you want?” she, de-
manded, showing a mixture of ap-
prehension and irritability. “And
why can’t it wait ?”

“Now, now! Be amiable! I
wished only to see what you look
like when you’ve crawled out of
bed.”

Automatically she primped her
hair. Then she gave him a sour
look and said : “Say what you want
to sa}^ and beat it.”

“I called to see if you were still
there.” He glanced hurriedly
through the windows of the booth,
looking up and down the street.
“I’ve got to make another call be-
fore we can talk turkey, so Fll put
it through and ring you again in

107

h^f an hour's time. yod

d(®'ttmnd?”

**It would make a . lot of
difference if I' did !”

' “I’ll call you back freon this same
booth and ,will be as quick as I
can.” He watched her fade out of
the screen.

Quickly he returned to the
Lincoln, drove it farther up the
street, parked it around a comer.
He had the bonnet stickily; out just
enough to enable him to keep
watch on the distant booth. With
the engine running, and his hands
at the controls ready for a fast
getaw'ay, he kept the booth under
observation for half an hour,

A few early workers appeared,
passed him casually. Notliing more
noteworthy had happened by the
end of the appointed time. Giving
up the watch, he drove the Lincoln
uptown, found another booth, called
Miriam from that.

*‘I checked your line. Somebody
m-ght have been sitting on it— in
which case they’d have tried to pick
me up forthwith. Evidenjly they’ve
not traced you yet.”

“Would I be here, if th^ had?”
she inquired, scornfully.

“Perhaps, my lovely ! They
wouldn’t remove the bait from the
trap, would they?”

“Don’t you call me bait !”

"Oh, all right.” He wagged his
head wearily. ‘T shouldn have
known better than to drag you from
your dr^ms. Tell me where I can
find a mutual friend and then you
can return to your slumbers.”

She bal^led an address in Flush-
ing, added hurriedly: "That’s until

noon tomorrow. Afterward, he'll
bfi. some plkce else.”

“Thanks.”

He took the Lincoln across the
Triboro at a pace su£Bciently sedate
to soothe the cops patrolling at both
ends. They let him pass with no'
more than an idle, disinterested
glance. Once clear of the bridge
he speeded into Long Isl^pd, soon
found the tumbledown brownstone
house which was Hansen’s momen-
tary hiding-place.

Hansen peered cautiously around
the door. He was barefooted, and
his suspenders dangle from his
hastily pulled-on {^fs.

“Did Miriam give you this ?”
He closed the door quickly behind
his visitor.

“Yes. She was anything but
sweet — but she gave.”

“You were lucky. One more day
and you’d have had to whistle for
both of us. She’s moving tomor-
row. Me, too.” He drafted the
suspenders over his shoulders.
“You’ve got bags like flour sacks
under your eyes.”

“I know it. I’ve been up all
night.”

“Bad habit. It buys you nothing.”
He padded along the passage' and
into a rear room. “Squat some-
where while I get the rest of my
clothes.” His bare feet trudged
upstairs. In short time he came
down with the remainder of his
attire bundled careles^y under one
arm. Proaeding with his . dress-
ing, he asked: “What’s our next
step toward .the scaffold?”

‘Til tell you shortly.” Arin-

ASTOUNOTKO SCIENCE-FICTION

strong’s voice was urgait."'‘Where’s
Qaire Mahdle ?”

“Darned if I can tell you. She
dropped, her shadows and went
some place fast.”

“Dropped her shadows?”

“Yep. The F.B.I. had her tagged
ifice a jealous father. They’ve been
doing it for weeks — you know that.
She kissed them a fond farewell.”
“How do you know this?”

Hansen rammed a shoe on his
foot, laced it expertly. “Because I
helped her.”

Waggling his eyebrows, Arm-
strong rumbled: “You’re capable of
speech without priming by me.”

“I went to see her, and got a
list off” her like you ordered. She
said she could do a lot more to
help you if only she could cross the
road without trailing a string of
bureaucrats behind her. She was
-convinced that the F.B.I. were the
boys following her around, but I
wasn’t so sure. I lent her a couple
.of my guys to accompany her into
town' — just in case.”

“And then?” .

“She was smart. She got them ^
iii\y)lved with her trackers and
faded out during the argument.”
He expressed grudging admiration.
“It was as slick a piece of work
as any I’ve seen.”

“The papers report that she’s
di.sappeared, but imply that some-
thing has happened to her.”

“The papers!” Hansen made a
gesture of derision. “When were
the papers, the . recorders or the
newscasts ever concerned un-
diluted facts?” He stood up,
stamped in his shoes, started putting

on his jacket. “The reports didn’t
mention that two of my men are
being held for questioning?”

“No.”

“See?”

Armstrong thought it over, then
asked : “Did you make a pass at that
stooge of Lindle’s?”

“Carson ? No. I was going after
him today.”

“Forget him. He doesn’t matter
now. Things are shaping up — and
they’re getting mighty hot !” '

^‘Getting hot!” Hansen echoed.
“What the deuce d’you call it nowf”
“Out with it — what’s your latest
crime?”

“I’m wanted lor snitching a
senator.”

Hansen paused and stood statue-
like while about to knot his tie.
Holding the tie straight out, with
one tag twisted over the other, he
gaped openly.

“Say that again.”

‘Tm wanted for kidnaping as
treacherous a senatorial slob as
you’d meet in a month’s march,”
said Armstrong. “Womerslcy.”
"We have had murder, arson,
espionage and wholesale sabotage,”
remarked Hansen, looking prayer-
fully at the ceiling. “Now he has
to add kidnaping.” He knotted the
tie. “Where have you hidden him ?”
“At Eddie Drake’s, in Nem
Jersey. I want you to get out
there as fast as you can with all
the men you’ve got available. How
many have you got?”

“Pete’s dead, and the F.B.I. is
holding two — that leaves four regu-
lars and five casuals. I can trust
the regulars.”

DREADPTITi SANCTUARY

109

.*.%v

“Four plus you and me and Ed.
Seven in all. If we can rescue
Quinn, that’ll make eight.”

“Why does Quinn need rescu-
ing? Has he got marooned

on an iceberg?”

, “The Norman yahoos in Kansas
City are holding him and are tiying
to pin the killing of Ambrose
Fothergill on him. I think maybe
they’ll hesitate before they go too
far with him; we’re quits now —
jhey've got Quinn, but I’ve got
Womersleyl”

“Oh, well — !’* He reached for
his hat< **The day I took you on as
a client I stuck my neck out a mile.
It was the dopiest thing I’ve ever
done. Sooner or later I’ll have to
pay for it with the best years of
my life.” ■ He rammed the hat c«

11*

his head. “Meanwhile, let’s, have
fun.” ‘

“Money is die root of all evil,”
Armstrong observed. “Whatever
happens Will serve you right for
being greedy. Let it be a lesson to
you.”

Drake was jittery by the time
Armstrong got back. He slammed
the door with alacrity, waved his
arms around while he declaimed.

“This is the devil’s own mess!
That stinker upstairs came round
about three hours after you’d gone.
He had a lot to ,say, all of it
authoritative and ominous. We had
a slugging match before I tied him
up on the bed. Then the first edi-
tion newscast came on — have you
seen it ?”

“Been too busy. You've got it
on the recorder?”

Drake nodded dumbly, crossed
the room, switched on his set? The
screen filled itself with the front
page.

EUROPEAN SHOWDOWN

COMING, WARNS LINDLE. *

Demands supplementary $1, 000,000, •
000.00 for nati(Muil defense;

Scanning the matter beneath,
Armstrong didn’t bother to read it
thoroughly, contented himself with
skipping from phrase to phrase.

“The crisis is approaching . . ,
w'e must now pay and pay until it
hurts . . . never forget the terrible
lessons of the past . . . war clouds
looming on the gray and dismal
horizon . . . all unnecessary expendi-

ASTOUNDINO SCIKNCB-PICTIOJT

ture must be ruthlessly curtailed if
we are to shotUder this greater and
far more urgent burden ... no folly
more monstrous than that of pour-
ing men, material and money into
Moon rockets at such a time as
this.”

In the adjoining column appeared
a small paragraph saying, “Follow-
ing his interview with the President
last night, General L. S. Gregory as-
sured the Press that the fighting
forces are ready for any emer-
gency.”

Pointing to this, he said to Drake :
“I’d gamble my life that Gregory
spoke to much greater length than
that. The rest of his comments
may have been too soothing to suit
the propaganda boys. So they left
it out, publishing only the bit best
calculated to increase public appre-
hension. One selected part of the
truth can be as effective as a down-
right lie !” He was biting his lip
as his eyes suddenly found the
right-hand side column.

PUBLIC ENEMY NUMBER
ONE.

IVashington, D. C, A nation-wide hunt
is now in progress for John J. Arm-
strong, thirty-four year old New York
dabbler in scientific appliances. Arm-
strong, who stands seventy-five inches
and weiglis two hundred' thirty pounds
stripped, is wanted for activities on be-
half of a foreign power as well as for
several Idllings and one kidnaping. He
is believed to be hiding in the New York
metropolitan area, and is known to be
armed.

There was not a word about
Womersley.

DREADFUL SANCTUARY

His face calm and expressionless
as he switched off, Armstrong com-
mented : “Looks like they’ve picked*
up that Cadillac.” He gave a shrug
of indifference. His eyes were red-
rimmed and puffy. There was a
strong stubble on his chin. “You
lay down for an hour or so, Ed.
You need the sleep.”

Drake sat in a chair, fumbled
with his hands, looked at him wide-
eyed. “As if I could snore through
this !”

“You're nervous, jumpy. . How
about a shot of Vitalax?”

“Vitalax!” said Drake, violently.

“And so say some of us — though
by no means all !” He took another
chair, flopped into it, rubbed his
eyes and j^awned. Then he dosed
his mouth and listened. ‘’'Someone’s
coming.”

A car whined to a stop in front.
Drake came out of his chair like
a man in a dream. He stood with
his hands dangling at his sides, his
whole attention on the door.

Armstrong smiled at him grimly,
opened the door, let Hansen in.
The agent was followed by three
muscle-bound characters, with Mir-
iam bringing up the rear. Arm-
strong introduced them to Drake.

They spread around the room,
and Hansen announced ; “We’re
one down already. Jake got picked
up last night. If they’d had the
sense to watch his place, they’d
have got me when L went for him
this morning.” He sniffed his con-
tempt for the unfortunate Jake.
“He was as drunk as a lord. I
don’t know what I saw- in that giiy.”
Ill

'He ^k«d at Armstrong. ba^
to bring Miriam.**

■ **Of course. You couldn't leave
ber bebtnd. Well vote her an angel
if shell set up some sandwiches
and coffee.” He watched her saun-
ter into the kitchen, said to Drake :
*‘We’d better feed the prisoner, too.
Can't let him starve to death.”

"He’s been fed. I beat him up,
then gave him his fodder. He didn’t
let hard feelings spoil his appetite —
he guzzled like a pig.”

“Good! Then he ought to be
ripe for a further dose of the
scluzophraser.” He tramped heavily
upstairs, came down carrj'ing the
bound senator like a baby in his
arms. He dumped him unceremoni-
ously into a chair.

Glaring around, Womersley pon-
tihcated in tones of outraged im-
portance. "You scum needn’t
think you’re g^oing to get away with
this.” He bestowed the glare on
each in turn. "I’ll remember each
.and every one of you, and 111 see
that you suffer if it takes the rest
of my life I”

Hansen responded, coolly: "And
what do you estimate as the rest
of your life?”

"Shut up. Leave him alone.”
Armstrong planted the cup on the
furious Womersley’s head, tried to
strap it accurately into position.
Womersley shook his head, .vigor-
ously and snarled an oath. Care- *
fully and deliberately, Annstrong
slapped him in the jaw. The sound
of it reverberated around the room.
Hansen looked mildly pleased.
Womersley rocked back, and Arm-

^i»

strong got the cup fixed to his own
satisfaction. * He switched on the
apparatus.

Breathing heavily, Womersley
yelled: "Arm^rong, if it’s the last
— His voice petered out. The
rage died away from his face which
slowly became stupefied.

“What is Singleton's private ad-
dress?”

Rolling his head to and fro,
Womersley. mouthed it like an au-
tomaton. Hansen pulled out a note-
book, noted the address therein.

• ‘But you don't know whether
Quinn is there?’ • .

“No.”

“Singleton alone knows where
he’s been hidden ?”

"Yes.”

Rubbing ' his bristly chin, Arm-
sti'ong contemplated the semicoma-
tose politician, and continued in-
exorably. "Womersley, do you know
that someone already is building
rockets numbers nineteen and
twenty ?” ,

“Yes.”

“Who's building ^hem?”

“We are.”

Drake exclaimed: “Jeeperst”
“Where are they being built?”
“Yellowknife.”.

“Both of them?”. .

"Yes.” .

“Yellowicnife. That’s in Canada,
way up in the wilds,” Armstrong
mused. “Is this stunt being pulled
in collaboration with the Canadian
Government ?”

“Of course.”

“Are these rockets near comple-
tion?”

“Yes.”

ASTOUNDING SCIBNCB-FICTION

“How. near?**

Womersley blinked dopily, seemed
to have trouble in making reply,
but eventually came out with :
"Nineteen is ready for its test
flight.. Twenty will be ready in two
clays at most.*’

"And if both pass their tests
they’ll be immediately ready for a
shot at the Moon?’*

"Yes."

In an undertone, Armstrong said :

■ "'Phew! They’ve |^ne a lot faster
and further than I’d anticipated.”
To Womersley: "But neither of
these rockets will reach the Moon ?’’
"No."

Moving close to tlie senator, he
harshed: "Why won’t they?"

"Tlie fuel coil changes to a criti-
cal composition.”

"You mean tliat they’re using
wire- form fuel fed into the motors
from a spool, and that the com-
jwsition of the wire alters some-
where along its iength?”

"Yes."

"Who supplied this fuel?**
"Radiometals Corporation."

“Are they Norman Oub adher-
ents?"

"No."

Arm.strong looked surprised. He
mooched around in a circle, thinking
dc^ly. The audience gave him
their full attention. He faced the
senator again.

“Are certain of its employees ad-
herents of the Norhian Club?”
"Yes."

"Technicians — and ins|>ectors?”
"Yes,”

"What are their names?”

“I don’t know.”

nRRADFUT, SANCTUAB”t

"Without the knowledge of their
employers, they are modifying fuel
coils in a manner calculated to
cause a spontaneous explosion?" ‘

"Yes.”

"Do you know how tliese disrup-
tions arc timed^ — will they be at the
beginning, or in the middle or to-
wards the ends of the coils?"

"With maximum delay," Woni-
.orsley mumbled.

"Meaning towards the ends,
when both vessels are close to the
Moon ?”

"Yes.”

Drake chipped in viciously:
"Somebody ought to cut his fat
throat 1"

"Be quiet.” Annsirong waved
him into silence, said to Womersley :
“Then the pilots are not Norman
Club nominees ?’’

“No.”

"So far as you’re concerned,
they can both go to blazes along with
their vessels ?"

"Yes."

Armstrong turned swiftly and
pushed Drake back as the latter took
an angry step forward.

Carrying on with his cross-ex-
amination, he demanded : "Why stir
the world to war. if you can bust
rockets the way you’ve descrilred ?”

"Our psycho-charts show that
peace means a rocket-craze which
may increase despite failures.”
"Sor*

"They’re planning on sending two
together now. It will be four to-
gether next year, ten the year after.
We can’t continue to deal with them
all successfully. Only war will-

' .113

cha*';;;e the international psychic
patterns.”

Snorting his disgust Armstrong
changed the subject “I told you
a story about being offered plans
of a scout- vessel by a Martian de-
portee. You believed that story.
Can 3?ou locate any such deportees ?”
“No.”

“Why not?”

“We are notified of them, but
they scatter immediately on arrival
and we cannot keep track of them.
Mad though they are, they're Mar-
tians— and- very clever.”

“You fear them?” '

“They regard us as enemies.”
“Are they many in number?”
“No, They are very few.”

“Do you know anything about
this torchlike weapon they've been
using ?”

“It is an Earth-made model of
a vibratory coagulator.”

“Has the Norman Club such a
weapon ?”

“No. We don’t Icnow how to
manufacture it. Besides, it is for-
bidden to us.”

Armstrong raised his eybrows.
“Forbidden ? By. whom ?”

“By the same ones of Mars who
are in touch with us.”

“On /Aif planet?”

“Yes.”

“Here we go again !” Armstrong
lopked around beseechingly. “Now
we*ve found another gang — sane
Martians this time!” He returned
his attention to the befuddled Wom-
ersley, **Are there many of them?”
"Very few.”

“How many?”

“I don’t know,”

“Are they allies of yours r”

“Not exactly,”

“What d'you mean by that?”
“They assist us very little. They
refuse to be militant. They main-
tain a policy of interfering in world
affairs no more than is made im-
perative by circiunstances at any
given time.”

“Name me one of them,” Arm-
strong challenged.

“Horowitz.”

“You assert that lie is a native-
born Martian ?”

“Yes.”

“How d'you know that?”

“He revealed it when first we
invited him to join us. He proved
it by providing a psychotron and
training certain of our membership
as operators of it.”

“Some proof 1” scoffed Armstrong
to the others.. “They get hold of
Horowitz, give him the old razzma-
tazz, and promptly he takes 'em up
on it. He's a noted physicist with
more brains than the lot of them —
and as few scruples. He was quick
to open the door when opportunity
knocked. Getting a load of their
Martian obsessions, he says, ‘Be-
hold, I am a Martian!’ and they
fall for it like suckers.”

“That doesn’t seem credible,”
Drake ventured.

“No less credible than anything
else in this mad affair. Big fleas
have little, fleas. And besides, any
Norman shrewd enough to see that
Horowitz was cashing in might
argue that a religion needs a saint
or two to bolster the faith. Lindle,
at least, is cynical enough to accept
Horowitz at face value, for reasons

114

ASTOUNDING SCIBNCB. FICTION

of utility rather than real Ix^ef.**
He frowned. “1*11 tend to his saint-
hood once I*m out of this mess.*’
“Hope springs etemal»** recited
Drake, in funereal tcmes. “We’re
in to our necks and sinking to our
ears. If you can find a way out of
this muddle, boy, you’ra !”
Hansen stared at him hard-eyed.
“You windy?”

“For heaven’s sake, quit bicker-
ii^!” Armstrong scowled around at
them. “We'Ve footloose and fancy
free, aren’t we? We’re roaming
about fully dressed and in our right
minds, and nobody’s put chains on
us yet Nobody’s going to, either!”
Drake said : “Your self-assurance
is magnificent, and I truly wish I
could share it. TIk fact remains
that you’ve got a motley mob of
pursuers 'ten miles long, and how
you're going to swallow the lot of
them is something I can’t make out.”
He favored Womersley with a
vicious look, and added: “But I’m
sticking with yoji partly because I
don't see what else I can do ; mostly
because I want to see that cold-
blooded fish get buried deep down.”
“Now you’re talking,” Hansen
approved.

Still frowning, Armstrong spoke
to Womersley: “If sane Martians
ordered the. Norman Clpb to de-
sist, or even to disband, would it
do so?”

“Yes.”

“Why would it?”

“They arc our superiors and we
are loy^ to them.”

“But they have issued no such
order ?” *

“No.”

DBEAPFUL SANCTUABT

“Some missionaries T Armstrong
commented, donrljr. have

infltKnced this world’s alfii^ tuns
and time again, according to Ltndle.
Do you know of any especial rear
son why they have refused to inter-
vene m this case?”

“This one is diffear^t It repre-
sents an important crossroads on
the path to destiny, and they feel
, . . they- feel”— he chok«i, mumbled,
proceeded with difficult — ^“that this
is one time when ^rthlings, sane
or insane, must . . . work out their
own ... salvation.” He choked
again, slumped low in his chair.

“He’s had enough.” Armstrong
cut the main-switch, snatched the
cup from Womerslcy’s sagging
head. “Take him upstairs arid
dump him on the bed. He’ll need
hours to sleep it off once more.”

Drake and two of Hansen’s men
lugged the limp senator away.-
Waiting for their return, Armstrong'
{^nuled up and down the room.
He was as restless as a caged bear.
The others came' back ; he continued
to march up and down the carpet
while he addressed his audience.
Their eyes followed him to and
fro, to and fro, like those of specta-
tors at a tennis tournament.

“Let’s take another look at the
situation. We’re wanted. All of
us are wanted in* the sense that
those not wanted today will be
wanted tomorrow or the day after,
either as accomplices, or as acces-
sories before or after the fact. The
charges against us don’t matter
much — we’li be saddled with what-
ever charges can be made to stick.

The cops, the the Norman

Qub, the Martian Hu-mans and,
for all I know, the Secret Service
and the Navy would give plenty
for our scalps.” He studied them
individually. “Whatever other an-
tics we may perform can’t get us
in any deeper than we are already.”

**The penalty for kidnaping is
death,” remarked Drake. “I can’t
imagine going any deeper than nine
feet of rope will permit.”

.Ignoring him, Armstrong went
on: “We need all the help we can
get — and what we can get is darned
little! Apart from those present,
there are only four people I' feel
I can trust, namely, General Gre-
gory, Bill Norton, Claire Handle
and George Quinn. It’s not much
use me trying to make contact with
Gregory again since I can give him
little more than he’s got already,
-besides which I’d probably l)e
pinched in the attempt. I caught
him in the nick of time, and now
it’s up to him. As for Claire Han-
dle, she’s out of reach. I'm not
worrying about her seeing that she
has disappwired of her own accord.
As for Bill Norton, he can't do us
much good. Unwittingly, he might
do us harm. He hoots with excite-
ment, and we can’t afford to be bur-
dened with hooters. That leaves
only Quinn.”

"And we know who’s holding
him,” Hansen put in, his eyes glit-
tering.

“And we know who’s holding
him,” Armstrong confirmed. “So
our next step should be to get
Quinn free — at all costs.” He

iis

paused, then said, “Any other sug-
gestions?”

Drake rubbed his chin thought-
fully before responding. “Don’t
think I’m criticizing when I ask
what Quinn has got tliat none of
us has got. There are seven of us
here, counting Miriam. Seven rats
on the run! How much better ofi
shall vve be when we’re eight?”

“W'c’ll be one man stronger.”

“I know that. But what good
will it do? Look at the situation:
you started off by nosing into rocket-
flops and that’s led you to the
present position where you want to
face tremendous and world-wide
odds in order to prevent a major
war. You said yourself that it isn’t
sufficient for us, as a nation, to be
peace-loving, animated by high
ideals and a sense of justice, et
cetera, because any other nation can
start the holocaust. That, in turn,
means that even if in some miracu-
lous manner you bust the Norman
Club in this country it can still set
the world aflanie by starting the fire
somewhere else, somewhere far be-
yond your reach — Portugal or Peru,
for instance. Then the flags go
up, the drums start beating, and
everyone sane enough to want to
live will be damned as a coward and
a traitor, while everyone mad
enough to be willing to die will be
praised as a hero. The war will be
-on, the slaughter started' the entire
set of circumstances will acquire an
impetus which couldn’t be controlled
by seven millions of us, much less
a mere seven. Heck of a lot better
off we’ll be when we’re eight !”

Hansen leaned forward and said,

ASTOUNDING RCIF.NCE-FICTION

softly; “You*d rather -4et Quinn
stew in his own juice, eh ?”

“Don’t be so. downright stupid!”
Drake became angry. “I’m all in
favor of getting Quinn out of bad
sooner than immediately. He’s a
rocket-pilot and, as such, I’d give
him the privilege of mauling that
inhuman specimen upstairs. I’d
like to do the mauling myself. Fve
a special reason for that! But I’d'
forego the pleasure in favor of
George because he’s a rocket-pilot.”
His annoyed gaze went from Hansen
to Armstrong. “What I’m bawling
about is that I don’t see any way out
of the mess we’re in. It’s like a
quicksand. All we can do is struggle
and go down, down, down until we
start blowing mud-bubbles. The
harder we struggle, the faster we’ll
sink. That’s the way I see it.
Maybe you see it differently. Maybe
you see something I don’t. If so.
I’d like to know of it. I could feel
I’m going somewhere, and a feeling
like that is a great comfort.”

“Then you may consider your-
self comforted,” Armstrong told
him. “Our amiable friend Wom-
ersley was kind enough to point” a
way out.”

“Eb?’’ Drake’s jaw dropped.

“He said, ‘We’re at the last ditch !*
didn’t he? So we’ll utilize the ditch
— if luck holds out long enough.”

“Yeah.” Drake looked confused.
“Yeah.” He passed a hand un-
certainly over his forehead. “This
is ' what comes of being up and
about when I ought to be In bed.
I’m too dopey to get it.” He turned
his puzzled face to Hansen. “Do
you get it ?”

PRlBiVI>FUL 8ANCTr-4KT

“No,” rq>lied the agent, imcoth
cemedlyr “^And I’m not worrying
about it. ‘WMTy never earned me
a dime.”

“George Quinn knows something
we don’t, something very useful,”
Armstrong explained. “He knows
when, where and how to blow.”
Drake screwed up his eyes as.
looked at him. After a while,, he
gave it up, and said, lugubriously:
“Take no notice of me. I’m too
far gone even to understand plain
English.”

“All right. Let’s accept that We
go after Quinn. # That gives us two
more problems. Firstly, do we tal«
Miriam v.dth us?”

“Try leaving me behind,” snapped
Miriam from the kitchen doorway.
She used a coffee percolator to' ges»-
ture toward Hansen. “He’s my
only alibi. I’m sticking to him.”
“There’s my answer.” Armstrong
grinned, and went on, “Do we tak*
Womersley, or shall we leave him
here under guard ?” ^

Hansen said : “He’s worth ^is
weight in gold to us. I don’t Re-
lieve in parting with gold. Besides,-,
leaving him under guard will cut
our number down.”.

“Keep him in sight,” advised
Drake. “I like him better in sight.

I wouldn’t trust him around the
corner. I don’t' trust him upstairs, '
even if he is unconscious.”

“We’ll cart him along.” Arm-
strong glanced at his watdi.
“We’ve lost too much time already.
There are two cars now, Hansen’s
and Drake’s. We’ve a long run
ahead of us and ought to sta^rt as
soon as we can get ready.” He ,

lit

indicated the apparatus on the floor.
“And we’d better take all this junk
if we can find room for it. It may
come in useful if some other canary
refuses to chirrup.”

“Kansas City, we’ll see you
soon !’^ Hansen stood up, and his
three men arose with him. “Pro-
vided we’re not picked up on the
way !”

XV.

Singleton’s home stood wide open
as if its owner had not one enemy
in the world. It posed in amazing
contrast with the fortresslike edifice
which Womersley needed to feel
secure. Evidently Singleton had no
cause to share the leeriness of Nor-
man Club leaders farther cast, per-
haps for the reason that he headed
a cohort smaller, less active, not so
deeply involved in the Club’s
peculiar affairs.

It was an old, rambling but pic-
turesque house standing in care-
fully tended grounds, and it en-
j(^ed that air of solid, well-es-
tablished respectability favored by
bankers and the more conservative
types of business men. -Viewing
it, Armstrong felt considerably
heartened. After seeing Womers-
ley’s prison he had expected yet
another personal Alcatraz.

Sitting in the front car beside
Hansen, who lounged at the wheel,
and with the second car parked
close behind, he said : “That chump
Womersley has admitted that
Singleton knows him by sight. We
also know that Singleton is in that
house at this moment. We’ve been
mighty lucky to get this far without

iia

incident and 1 reckon we ought to
ride our luck while it’s still run-
ning, W-hat say we use Womersley
as our front — and walk straight in?”

“I like it.” Hansen’s sharp eyes
surveyed the house across the road.
“It has always paid me to move
fast rather than slow. When you’re
slow, it gives the other guy time to
think.”

“Let’s go. I’ll tell them at back
first.” Opening the door, Arm-
strong got out. Cautiously, he
looked up and down the street. He
was careful rather than apprehen-
sive. After many hours of travel,
and numberless encounters with ail
sorts of people — -including two cops
— none of whom had looked at
him with more than casual interest,
he was not greatly in fear of recog-
nition. This despite the.photograph
of him published in yesterday’s
sheets under an offer of two hundred
thousand dollars reward, dead or
alive.

It had been an old and not-too-
good reproduction of his beefy pan,
blown up to quarter-plate size from
a. slice of microfilm. Even if it
had been good he’d not have been
unduly worried. Most folk, he
knew, could not remember what
they’d read over breakfast let alone
what appeared in yesterday’s papets.
The sharp-eyed exception with an
acute memory was his only peril —
so carefully he surveyed the street.

It was quiet, undisturbed. Step-
ping swiftly to the second car, he
spoke to one of Hansen’s men who
was at its wheel.

“We’re going straight in. Keep
close behind us.”

ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

The other nodded, shifted a wad
of gum. Armstrong glanced at
Womersley who was jammed in the
rear seat between Draia and another
of Hansen’s men. Womersley
glared back at him without remark.

Returning to the leading car. he
got in, \vatched the rear-view mirror
as they edged across . the road,
purred up the semicircular drive to
Singleton’s residence. They stopped
before the front door, the other
car following suit. There were two
more cars parked farther around ihe
drive and nearer the exit, but no
pa5sei^;ers were in evidence.

With Hansen at his side and the
rest b^ind, Armstrong mounted the
ten broad steps leading to the front
door, rang the bell. A pert maid
responded.

Smiling at her, he raised his hat,
said smoothly. “This is Senator
Womersley and some friends-^we
wish to Mr. Singleton imme-
diately. Please tell him that the
subject of our call is a very urgent
one.”

She smiled back, eying the group
without suspicion, and chirped:.
“Please, wait a moment.” She
turned and went away with a flirt
of frilly skirts which sent Hansen’s
eyebrows up an inch. In short time
she reappeared. “Mr. Singleton
will sw you at once.”

Stepping aside, Armstrong gave
her his hat. His other hand re-
mained inside his pocket, its fingers
curled around his .58. Hansen en-
tered likewise, hat in one hand,
hidden gun in the other. So did
Ws three men. With Drake close
against his back and Miriam chum-

PBSADFUL SANCTUASt

mily linked on his arm, Womersley
went through the do^ with di^
gruntled pomposity.

Dumping the hats, the maid led
them across a broad hall, opened the
door on the farther side. Armstrong
paused, signed to Womersley.
Looking like a man who had plei^
owing to him and intended to c<3-
lect some day, the s^iator passed
through the doorway, still linked
with Miriam, and with Drake still
crowding him from behind. The
other five followed. Quietly, the
maid closed the door.

There were four people in this
room, and Armstrot^ recognized
three of them though not the faintest
flicker of surprise crossed his heavy
face. The first was a little, wizened
individual struggling out of a deep
armchair. This, he presumed, was
Singleton. Near him, already out
of his chair and advancing to greet
the visitors, was Lindle. Before an
empty .firq>lace, his legs braced
apart, his hands behind him, .his
eyes staring owHshly through thick-
lensed spectacles, stood HorowUz.
The fourth person was Claire
Mandle. She was near a table, one
hand braced on its polished surface,
the other held to her mouth. Her
elfin eyes were enormous as they
looked at him.

“Well, well, Eustace,” enthused
Singleton, in. a shrill voic^ “This «
a surprise!” Finding his feet, he
advanced toward Womersley with
eager cordiality. “I thought — ”

“You thought right,” snafued
Lindle, his voice cutting throu^ the
room, He withdrew a couple of

itf

steps, his brow thunderous. "And
now you’ve a load of trouble in your
lap.’*

“Huh?’ Singleton stopped with
one foot in the air, took a long time
putting it. down. It looked as if he
were trying to imitate' a slow-motion
iftovie. Turning just as sluggishly,
he looked at Lindle. “What d’you
mean? Can’t you see that Eustace

“Shut up and sit down!” Lindle
snarled, “It takes a crazy Daniel
to walk right into the den !” His
dark eyes focused on Armstrong.
•“All right, let’s have it — what d’you
want ?”

Armstrong ignored Lindle, Horo-
witz and Claire Mandle ; he kept
his full attention on the flustered
Singleton as he answered the ques-
tion in deep, rumbling tones like
those of distant thunder.

He said, simply: “George

Quinn 1” Singleton turned startled
eyes upon him, and he caught them
and held them as he continued in
the same inexorable voice, “And
heaven help the lot of you if he’s
dead!"

Singleton whitened, moved back-
ward,

“Stt^y where you are.” Arm-
strong strode farther into the room.
Out of one corner of his eye he
saw Lindle resume his easy-chair
and cross his legs with exaggerated
unconcern. Claire was still by the
table, still regarding him wide-eyed.
Horowitz had not moved from the
fireplace. He said to Singleton :
“Where’s George Quinn?”

The other seemed smitten dumb
by sheer fright. His gaze roamed

120

dull-wittedly around ; feebly he
raised his hands, put them down
again.

Reaching for a nearby wall-bulb,
Armstrong unscrewed it, glanced at
it, screwed it back into place. He
made a grimace of disgust.

“What’s the matter?” inquired '
Hansen.

“Fifty volts. This dump must
have its own generating plant. The
schizophraser’s no use here — it’s got
to have a hundred and ten.”

“We can take him some place
else and pick him to bits at our ease.
This isn’t the only — ” Hansen
stopped as Drake nudged him. '

“You look after this slob,” sug-
gested Drake, meaning the irate
Womersley. He moved out as Han-
sen took over, started walking slow-
ly and deliberately toward Single-
ton. His face was strangely pale
and little beads of perspiration lay
across his forehead. “I’ll tend to
this,” he gritted. The others
watched him fascinatedly. Going
right up to Singleton, he said, quiet-
ly but clearly: “I’ve got a personal
bone to pick with you — you dirty
little rat !”

Flapping his hands again, Single-
ton slumped backward into his
chair. Drake towered over him,
went on in the same quiet tones:
“Remember that last one that blew
apart on the deck, before it even
could take off? It killed sixty,
didn’t it ? One of them was a
synchronies engineer named Tony
Drake — my brother! 1 saw him
go!” His voice went up in tone
and became louder. “That was ac-
cording to plan — your plan, you

ASTOUNDING SCIDNGE-FICTION

shrinking lou^t” His hand
whipped out of his. poclcet and
flashM a gleam of metallic blue.
“Here’s my plan! YouVe got ten
seconds to say what you’ve done
with George Quinn, So help me,
if you don’t give — and give quick
— I’ll splash your snake-brains over
the wall — and this’ll show you I
mean business!”

The gun roared with sudden and
.unexpected viciousness that shocked
the room. • Singleton emitted a
squeal of pain that p.enetrated the
reverberations still bouncing from
wall ft) wall. Dragging up his left
foot, he tried to get it into his
lap. His face was so colorless that
it held a curious quality of trans-
parency.

As Armstrong moved forward, his
big fa(e taut, Drake was breathing
into' the agonized Singleton’s fea-
tures: “Five, six, seven, eight.” The
gun came up. - ,

“Out at Keefer’s! He’s out at
Keefer’s, I tell you!” Singleton
shrieked.

The door opened, the maid looked
in anxiously. Nobody had heard
her knock. One of Hansen’s men
grasped her arm, drew her into the
room, planted his broad back
against the closed door.

“Alive?” insisted Drake. His
optics were afire with hate as he
kept them fixed on his victim.

“Oh, my foot!” moaned Single-
ton. He got it onto his knee.
Blood dripped from his slice, made

little, glutinous splashes on the car-
pet. “Oh, my foot !”

“Alive?” Drake motioned with
his gun. His mouth was all lop-
sided, ‘‘When I ask you something
you’d better reply fast! Tm not
like you, see? I’m not sane!” He
gave a queer, unnatural laugh. “I’m
daffy. I’m so daffy that I can do
almost anything . . . anything . . .
especially to you !” Bending for-
ward, he bawled right into Single-
ton’s face. “.Is Quinn alive?”
Singleton hooted for breath, then
yelped frantically: “Yes, he’s alive.
He’s at Keefer’s, I tell you! And
he’s alive !”

“Where’s Keefer’s?”

In cool, sardonic tones, Liiidle
cut in with : “The place to which
that pathetic weakling refers is
half an hour’s drive from here. It
has a telephone. It would save you
a lot of trouble, mot to mention a
modicum of melodrama, if Singleton
called and ordered them to bring
Quinn to you here.”

For some weird reason, this in-
furiated Drake. He turned his
savage eyes to Lindle, swung the
gun toward him as well. “Who
asked you to open your trap ? This
is the lily-livered specimen who’s
going to provide the answers, and
when — ” ‘

“Easy, Ed!” Armstrong made a
swift snatch which got him Drake’s
gun. “Cool down, will you? Cool
down !”

Drake shouted : “But — ”

“Take it easy!” Armstrong held
him, eye to eye. “Quinn first. We

122

want to get George, don’t we ?
Business before pleasure 1”

Slowly, very slowly, Drake de-
flated. Finally he said : “All right.
Let that louse ring Keefer’s. That’ll
be the signal for them to dump
Quinn in the river before they come
on the run for us.”

"We’ll take a chance on that.”
He studied the moaning Singleton.
“And I don’t think we’ll be taking
much of a chance — this guy won’t
sign his own death warrant.” To
Singleton, he said: “There’s the
phone. Tell ’em you want Quinn
brought here at once.”

"ily foot!” complained Single-
ton, whiningly. He pulled the shoe
off, revealed a saturated sock. “Let
me bandage it first. I’ll bleed to
death !”

"Bleed to death!” Armstrong’s
smile was grim as he noted the
other’s appalled expression. “Mil-
lions are going to bleed to death
if you and your kind get their way.
Fat lot you care about that — and a
fat lot we care about you!” He
shoved the phone into Singleton’s
shaking hands. “Go ahead. Say
anything you like. Yell for help
if you want — it may reach you if
you’re slow in dying!”

“John!” Claire Mandle took a
tentative step forward. She was
shaken, uncertain. Lindle watched
her with acjd amusement. Horowitz
turned his lenses toward her, his
expression inscrutable. Armstrong
ignored her.

“Go ahead,” he urged Singleton.
Claire withdrew her step, sat
down. Her bottom lip trembled.
Singleton on the telephone, ironed

ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

the quavers out of his voice, aod
said with passable authoi^y : “Bring
Quinn in. Yes, at once l” Puttiz^
down the instrument, he started to
peel off his sock.

Armstrong sent o*t the maid,
guarded by one of Hansen's men.
She came back with bandages; he
sat on the arm of a chair and
watched her tet^ to Singleton's
wound.

“The incurable sentimentalist.”
Lindle studied him from across the
room. “So far as I kno^, you’re
the first certifiably sane one who's
proved too spiritually lacy to dis-
cipline his own emotions. And look
where it’s got you.^’ His chudcle
was self-assured. “Two hundred
grand reward, alive or dead!” He
shook his well-groomed head in
mock sorrow, “Remember what I
said to you once — see how you like
the madhouse now?”

He got no response. Armstrong
stared at him with sphinxlike lack
of expression.

“It’ll be a darned sight madder
before long,” Lindle prophesied.
“I shall always remain amazed that
anyone so fundamentally sane
should choose to support the world’s
lunatics. I have been lost for an
explanation of this contradiction.
It seems to me that either the psy-
chotron was o,ut of order and made
a wrong diagnosis of you — which
our friend Horowitz, a psychotron
expert, denies most emphatically —
or else we never did sucewd in
convincing you of the facts of his-
tory past and present. Personally,
I lean to the latter theory. You are
sane — but an incurable skeptic. I

think your bullheaded aettoos rinc*
we last »w each other an entirriy
due to your inability to i^>reciate
what you’re up against. You don’t
believe even your own-eyei!” He
sat more erect in his chair. “It
wouldn’t do you any harm to put
some trust in them for once — and
allow me to remind you that there
is always time to repent.”
Armstrong’s face remained blank ;
his lips did not part

“Our power is such,” boasted
Lindle, determined to make some
use of the waiting-time; “that if we
wished we could wtffidraw all
charges against you and your
companions today. Wec<mld make
you puUic heroes tomorrow — and
w^thy men the day after.”

“What d’you mean by wealthy?”
put in Hansen, displaying sudden
interest.

Lindle’s dark, sardonic eyes
shifted to the agent. “We’re no
pikers. A hundred grand per man.”
“Not enough.” Hansen gestured
to the impassive Armstrong. “He’s
promised me half a million. He’s a
better liar even than you !”

Miriam giggled. Lindle became
sour. Armstrong watched Lindle
steadily, still said nothing.

The surly and silent Womersley
unexpectedly woke up and growled
at Lindle: “You’re wasting your
breath. They’re all completely un-
balanced no matter what your psy-
chotron said.” He puffed like an
angry frog. “Leave them alone and
let them ' writ what’s omiii^ to
them.”

Claire Mandle stood up again,

PB£ADFUL sanctuary

128

3p<^ hesitantiy: ^John, 1 tri^ to
hdp. Believe me, I — ”

“Be silent, Claire I” Horowitz
was authoritative, severe. “I have
toiji you repeatedly that assistance
and interference are totally differ-
ent things. The first is permitted,
the second is not ! Positively not !”
His heavy spectacles turned on
Armstrong. Obviously he expected
a retort. Silent and’ brooding,
.Armstrong sat like a huge, cumber-
some bear, his eyes hard and cold
• as they watdied Lindle. ' Horowitz
surveyed him as if he were a curi-
ous spramen nailed to a board.

“Tljis man,” he pronounced care-
; ■f-tilly, “knows quite well wliat might
be done and intends to see if it can
be done.. If he fails, it is fate. If
he succ^s, it is fate likewise.” He
shrugged his drooping shoulders.
'“Arid that is all there is to it!”
“Are you going as loony as the
rest?” demanded Lindle, heatedly.
His eyes held little red lights.
“Nothing can be done, absolutely
nothing !”

“Do you dare to talk to me like
that?” Horowitz put the question
calmly, ' evenly, but its effect was
surprising.

The lights faded from Lindle’s
optics and he appeared to shrink in
his ^t. Liclcing his lips, he apolo-
gized : "I am sorry. It is not for us
to question your ideas.”

A bell shrilled loudly in the liall.
Tile maid threw a scared glance at
Singleton who prorhptly passed it
along to Armstrong. The latter
nodded to Hansen.

“You look after it. Take a
couple of your boys.”

124'

Hansen loimged out followed by
two of his men. Lindle assumed a
look of helpless resignation, tilted
back in his chair. His eyes were
aimed at the ceiling with the air of
one bored beyond telling, and he
rocked the chair slightly, its front
feet off the floor, then b<^:an to tilt
it larther.

Coldly and deliberately, Arm-
strong blew a lump of Lindle’s skull
away before the back of the chair
could contact the stud set in the wall
. behind, ^he body kicked twice,
slid to the floor. Miriam b^n to
.emit curious mewing noises. Claire
buried her face in her hands.

In the second of eternity that
followed, Armstrong caught a mo-
mentary glimpse of Horowitz
gravely removing his glasses. He
had no time to note more. Single-
ton, . squeaking with frenzied fear,
was coming up with something
which had been hidden in the
cushion of his chair, and Drake
was tnaking for him unarmed. He
could hear Drake snuffling like a
boxer as he shuffled forward.

There was an uproar in the liall,
two fast explosions, more noises
from Miriam, and the stumbling of
feet close behind him. He swung
his gun to deal witli Singleton,
found Drake blocking his line of
fire. Dropping the gun, he rose
from.tlie arm of the cltair on which
he'd been sitting, swiveled round on
one heel, snatched Womersley out
of the grasp of Hansen’s man be-
hind him, grunted as he swung the
senator's heavy body into revere
and bounced it on its cranium.

ASTOUNDING SOIKNCR-FICTION

WomersI^ }^ed» fl&iled, went
limp.

^ .Another gtm Went in the hall,
then two more. Miriam began to
X^erform a crazy jig, with her mouth
wide op«i. Yet another explosion
sounded within the room and Drake
collapsed across Singleton’s chair.
Singleton shoved the body ofF, stood
up on one foot, turned his gun to-
ward Armstrong, He was yipping
hysterically and his hand was shak-
ing so badly that the gun’s muzzle
wavered erratically. He had a mo-
ment of fearful indecision as his
eyes went from the advancing Arm-
strong to the Hansen-agent sidling
around at one side, and that was his
undoing.

The body of Drake shot out a dy-
ing hand, snatched Singleton’s gO(^
foot fiom under him, brought him
down, grabbed at and got his gun.
Tile gun spat low in the caipet and
Sii^leton screeched like a trapped
<»t. He .doubled up violently,
straightened out, doubled and
straightened again, writhed around
with his hands to his middle.

Down on the carf)et, Drake
cobbed .some blood, ^d in a weatc,
faraway voice: "That’s a law., . .
good enough for any . . . darned
Martians — an eye for an eye !” He
strove to lift the gun once more.
Armstrong stooped over him to take
it from hhn as it came up, but he
was too late. With horrible de-
liberation, Drake planted a heavy
sli^ behind riie Jerkii^ Singleton’s
right ear. "Job worth doing,” he
wheezed, "is worth doing well.”
Something gurgled liquidly in his
throat. He released his hold on

DKBADFCL 8ANCTUAB9

the weapon, laid his head on Hs
left arm and quietly ceased to
breathe.

Armstrong looked around. Horo-
witz was standing by the firqilace
in exactly the same pose as he’d held
from the start,- and his expression
still was completely impassive.
Claire was in Iict chair, her face
hidden in her hands. Lindle, Sin-
gleton and Drake sprawled dead
upon the floor. To one side, Han-
sen’s agent was surveying the bodies
gloomily, while near the door
Miriam stood like one in a dream.

Hansen himself suddenly ap-
peared in the doorway. He tii^^
the maid ahead of him, while Geoi^e
Quinn and another of his men fol-
lowed him in.

“One of my boys is finished,” he
announced. “We got two of th«r
men.” Hjs dark, hawklil^ eyes
studied the frightened maid. "She
gave them the high-sign som^ow—
I don’t know how — immediately
they got through the door. They
.went for their guns. She tried to
beat it while we were busy. She’d
have had the entire town on our
necks if she’d got away. Quinn
stopped her.”

“Good work, George,” Arm-
strong approved.

“It won't look so good mighty
socm,” opined Quinn, taking in the
scene. **They’re phoning frmn
Keefer’s in twenty minutes to madee
sure everything’s O.K.” He turned
his worried |^zc to Armstrong.
know you folk have done all-thia
for me, but-r-”

“Let’s cut out the speeches.”

iss

Armstrong made a gesture of impa-
tience, discovered that his hand
was still holding a gun. He shoved
the Weapon into his pocket. “We
want out. We’ve got to move fast.
We’ll leave the bodies and take the
rest.”

“All of them?” Hansen counted
them, Horowitz, the maid, Claire
Mandle and the semiconscious
Womersley now beginning to stir
upon the floor. “That means four
more!”

“We can’t leave one to start the
pursuit. If we take ’em, it may de-
lay things, and we need the best lead
we can get. We’ve four cars avail-
able now. We’ll take all the cars
and all the living.” He looked at
Horowitz. “You for a start — come
on!”

Claire uncovered her face and
said: “John, I guessed that you
wanted Quinn, and why you wanted
him, and I — ”

'“Later,” he told her, gently,
“later on. Not now.” He mo-
tioned Horowitz forward. Obedi-
ently, that glassy-eyed individual
paced toward the door. ^ Somehow,
he didn’t hate Horowitz any longer.
He’d been satiated by Drake’s dying
spasm of vengeafice, and now he
felt only cold, cold, colder even than
the dead, the multi-millions of dead
who soon were to litter the earth —
if planet-wide plotting could not be
thwarted at one stroke. His voice
was sympathetic of his coldness; a
frigid-toned thing that said to Horo-
witz, “March !” and caused him to
march without hesitation or quibble.

They locked the front door,

12C

loaded the four cars and sped away.
Horowitz’s own machine, a long,
low-slung job, took the lead with
Hansen at its wheel. It held a
short-wave radio which Hansen
switched on, but there had been no
howl of alarm over the police-band
an hour later when they rolled into
a skyport, made a deceitfully sedate
cavalcade across its tarmac toward
the control tower.

Either Keefer’s had failed to
check or, getting no reply to their
call, they were investigating with
considerable caution. That portion
of the Norman gang would be likely
to prove the unexpected mess with
the careful respect due to Martian
Hu-mans whom they’d assume to
be the cause of it. They did not
fear Armstrong, but they were natu-
rally leery of the Hu-mans and
especially of their potent coagu-
lators. The time their care was
costing them was all to the good
from the viewpoint of the fugi-
tives. The etW was still clear
nearly another hour later when their
hired twelve-seater, low-wing jet-
plane was ready for them.

. Obtaining the plane had proved
absurdly easy. Faced by a sudden
request for a hire-and-drive-your-
self passenger job, fully fueled, the
skyport’s booking officer had felt in-
clined to jib. He had wavered at
sight of a wad of notes and four
automobiles to be left as security.
George’s pilot’s certificate had done
the rest. He read aloud the last
words on the certificate, mouthing
them with awe.

. . including liquid-fuel rock-
ets of meteorological or experimen-

ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

taJ tjrpes.” He look^ up, his eyes
bugging^. Not one wanted man was
on his mind, “First rocket certifi-
cate Fve seen.” Handing it back
as if it were the original copy of
Magna Carta, he entered the book-
ing without further argument, in
fact eagerly.

With the machine waiting for
them, its compressors rotating at
minimum while they heated up,
they climbed in one by one. Horo-
witz went up the portable steps as
blank-faced as an image. Wom-
erslcy, now on his feet, but rubber-
legg^ and half-stupefied, had to be
assisted in. The skyport’s onlook-
ers observed him with mild sym-
pathy and total lack of suspicion.
The maid turned on the steps as if
tempted to yell her head off, but
she changed her mind when she
looked into tfie eyes of Hansen ,
mounting close behind her. The rest
got aboard with disarming casual-
ness.

George gave his craft the gun,
took her up to five thousand feet
and headed dead south. This ac-
corded with their declared destina-
tion and made their departure look
conventional to observers on the
skyport. He boosted her speed
slowly but steadily. The ether re-
mained silent.

Edging into the co-pilot’s seat,
Armstrong said to Quinn: ‘*How
soon can we turn north without giv-
ing ourselves awav to the boys be-
hind ?”

Narrowing his eyes as he stared
through the transpax, Quinn pon-
dered a moment. “They had a ro-

tary hemispherical antenna on the
tower. That means they've got
radar. Maybe' it's used only in
times of bad visibility, or at night
On the , other hand, perhaps it’s in
constant use. I don’t know. If we
want to play safe, we’ll have to get
below their horizon before we
change course, and then we’ll have
to make the full turn still below it.
That means a pretty wide sweep.
If we’re being sought for, ground
observers will spot us elsewhere.”

“We're not being sought for yet.”
Armstrong fiddled with the controls
of the radio. **I don't know why
they’re so slow at starting a hue and
cry. I think this Singleton’s mob
must be a small and unimportant
one compared with those we’ve got
east.” Meditatively he rubbed his
chin. There was a stiff bristle on
it again. “What happened to
Fothergill ?”

“I haven’t got the full story, but
I reckon you were right in one
respect — he knew something.
Either he bleated it or was about
to do so. I heard an argument in
his office, followed by a shot.
Stupidly, I barged straight in,
found Miller there, gun in hand,
watching Fothergill die at his desk,
Muller looked at me as if I were of
no consequence whatsoever. He
didn’t bother even to turn his gun
my way. Before I could recover
my wits I heard a quick step right
behind me and someone handed me
a skull-splitter.”

“Tough luck.”

woke up traveling fast in a
lorry which eventually dumped me
at Keefer’s, and I’ve been there

DREADFUL SANCTUARY

• 12T

under guard ever since. Th^ let
me read their new^-recorder, so I
soon learned that I’d been saddled
with the killing and was wanted by
the authorities. 1 knew also tliat
you were wanted for everything up
•to massacre.” He threw his listener
a sidewise glance. “VVhen Single-
ton sent his call for me 1 decided
that this was it ; my time had come.
Nobody was more surprised than
I when tile guys I thoi^ht were his
men proved to be your men and
opened up on my guard.”

**Thc said guard were more sur-
prised,” Armstrong guessed. His
smile was hard an<^‘ craggy. “I’ve
learned something long known to
people more worldly-wise than I —
the a^ressor always has the ad-
vantage. That -is what enabled
guerilla movements to keep func-
tioning despite German., and Jap
occupation — ^the old strikc-and-van-
ish ^technique. That is what has
l«pt us going successfully — so far.”
He studied the rolling countryside
a§ the plane dipped and sivung. ‘
“Turn north whim you think it’s
safe, George. We’re malcing for
• Yellowknife.”

“Yellowknife?” Quinn was mys-
tified. “What the deuce is tliere?”

“Mate in one move,” said Arra-
stroi^. “If the luck of Old Nick
enables us to make it !”

Leaving the co-pilot’s scat, he
went back along the cabin, joined
Claire Mandle. , “We're going to
drop you off some place.”

. “Why?”

'^We’re fugitives from justice,”
he pointed out. “It wouldn’t do.

you any good to be found asso-
ciating with us voluntarily?*

“But, John, ttiis can’t go on fbt-
cver. You can’t spend the rest of
your natural life running around
like a hunted crook. Why don't
you — ?”

“Why don’t I give myself up
and let the wolves eat me?” he
finished for her.

“They don’t punish innocent
men,” she protested.

He regarded her calmly, knowing
that she did not believe her o\.n
^ords. Then he said: “We’re
going to put you down on our way.
If you want to hdp, you can do so
by saying notlwng whatever about
us for several days afterward.”

She was slightly flushed, her
mind full of arguments, her lips
unable to voice them. After a
while,' she murmured: “We may
never meet again — never 1”

^‘Just ships that pass in the
night,” he agreed. He was watch-
ing her closely. Slie found an ab-
*$urd little handkerchief, held it to
her mouth. Her eyes were faraway
and moist. Gently squeezing her
arm, he went on: “Or we may
meet in Jhe sunrise — if we

can persuade Old Man Sun to come
up. We’re going to have a darned
good try, anyway.”

“You’re bucking a task as tough
as that of trying to boss the Sun
around.” Her voice was low, muf-
fled. “You’re trying to divert
forces infinitely beyond your power.
I know it — I tried to help you and
found it futile.”

“Tell me,” he invited.

astounding scikncb-piction

SHe was quiet for a time, toying
with her -handkerchief while she
regain composure. Eventually, she
said: *‘I put together all that you
had'told me and it made a picture
of a sort. When I read about
George Quinn’s disappearance I de-
duced that it would be a imjor
blow to you, I guessed that you
wanted him, that you needed him
badly.”

' “You know why?’*

“I think so.”

“And then?”

“I realized that all lines led to
the Norman Club. I remembered
that they had made overtures to
Bob. If they were interested in
Bob, they might be equally interested
in his sister — and when people get
friendly they sometimes talk too
much.” He nodded understandingly
as she went on : “There seemed
some slight chance of gaining their
confidence sufficiently to discover
whether they were responsible for
Quinn’s vanishing and, if so, what
they had done with him. One of
the men who had been pestering
me for information regarding you
was Carson, who described himself
as Senator Lindle’s secretary. I
threw my shadows, ‘went along to
see Lindle.”

“Go on,” he urged.

“Lindle was away. Carson trans-
fered me to Horowitz who said
that Lindle had gone to Kansas
City. Horowitz cross-examined me
to great length about Bob's work
also about your activities, but I
professed ignorance. I don’t think
he believed me.”

“He wouldn’t,” Armstrong &s-

DRBA«FUT, SANCTUARY

serted. “Being so expert a liar
himself.”

She smiled and said ; “He assured
me that he’s a^ Martian with this
world under his thumb.”

“By this time, he believes it him-
self—he’s told the tale so often.”
“He had a most peculiar attitude
toward me, I can describe it only
as speculative cordiality. There
was something in his mind, his
shrewd, fast-thinking mind, which
told him I could be useful to him- —
as an ally, or a hostage, or both.
I could tell that much, but I don’t
think he realized that I could. Hav-
ing got me there, he didn’t want to
detain me by force, neither- did he
want me to go. I think he sus-
pected that compulsory detention
might bring out the unpleasant fact
that I was bait provided by the
F.B;I. On the other hand, he didn’t
w'ant to lose me. He found a way
out by offering to escort me to
Kansas City to see Lindle in person.

I took him up on that.”

“A nice example of angels rush-^
ing in where fools fear to tread,”
Armstrong conjmented. “You’ll
ha\ e to change your reckless' ways at
some date I’ve got in mind.”
“You’re the one to talk!” she
riposted. Her eyes surveyed him
from their tilted corners before she
went on. “I used what wiles I
possess to persuade Horowitz to
give forth during our journey, I’ve
never met a man w'ho can be so
boastful without really saying any- •
thing. All I could do was r^d te-
tween the lines and draw conclu-
sions.”

“At which you’re too good for

is»

my future comfort,” he suggested.

She smiled again. “I decided that
he is a very clever man w'ho had a
couple of inventions lying around
at a moment when a glorious oppor-
tunity presented itself. He had the
brains to welcome opportunity with
both hands’ He is another and
craftier Hitler — this time with his
cohorts underground.”

“That’s my estimate, too,” Arm-
strong agreed. “And he’s made
enemies among a few who know
too much. They are likewise under-
ground-trying to steal his thunder
by claiming Martianhood, even if
insane. The insane touch is a nice
terror weapon. Hu-mans, bunk!”
“Which is what makes the strug-
gle so crazy,” she observed. “It
i,sn’t a .simple two-sided affray. It’s
multi-sided. The Normans versus
Humans versus you^ versus unin-
formed authority. Each smiting
the nearest to hand, like an Irish
wedding;” She pondered momen-
tarily. “In the end, we reached
Kansas City, and immediately I
found myself practically a prisoner.
It served me right, I suppose. But
I discovered two more items.”
“What were those?”

“Clark Marshall had a taste of
the psychotron and got delusions of
. insanity. He knew enough to be a
menace to them. They sought him
in vain, and their opponents
obligingly did the job for them.”
She closed her eyes, her voice went
, lower. “But I think they got Bob.
I think Bob played with them, seek-
ing information to pass along to the
government — and they found it
out.”

139

He squeezed her arm gently.
“It’s our turn now. Wait and see!”

Getting up and going forward, he
had a look through the transpex.
“How’re we doing, George?”
“East-northeast. We’ll be head-
ing north pretty soon. Still not a
squawk on the short waves.”
Quinn flipped the radio’s band-
switch. “Let’s try the mediums.”
Promptly the radio blared forth,
“. . . defined all these accusations of
surreptitious military dictatorship as
a manifest political maneuver which
should deceive nobody. Continu-
ing, General Gregory said that as
newly-appointed commander-in-
chief of the joint defense services
he accepted full responsibility for
all orders issued from his head-
quarters and that the armed forces
would be used to maintain internal
peace at all costs. It was now his
task, he declared, to employ the wide
powers granted him to insure that
if world peace were disturbed it
would not be disturbed by the
United States of America. When
asked whether the names of Sena-
tors Lindle, Embleton and Womers-
ley would appear on the list which
the President has instructed him to
prepare, the general snapped briefly,
T have nothing more to say !’ ”
Glancing up from his instruments,
Quinn found Armstrong’s eyes
alight with joyous fire.

The radio coughed, beg-pardoned,
and went on ; “In a dark and fore-
boding speech made in Clermont
Ferrand this afternoon, the French
Minister for War reminded France
that on two occasions she had been

ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

caught unprepared. Announcing
the call-up of another three classes
to the colors, he warned his listeners
that the present international line-
up made the third and final world-
war well-nigh inevitable. France,
he asserted, was determined to pre-
serve her integrity at all costs, and
he could tell potential enemies that
she now had at her disposal weap-
ons mightier even than the atom
bomb. A sensational editorial in to-
day’s edition of Derniercs Nouvelles
de Stra^ourg claims that one of
these weapons may prove to be a
neo-bubonic pandemic.”

Again Quinn looked up. Arm-
strong was scowling heavily.

“It’s going to be touch and go,
George,” he rumbled. “^The sands
are running out fast.” He hooked
his brawny leg across the corner of
the co-pilot’s seat, ran a hand over
Ins forehead wearily. “There’s an
invisible empire sprawling right
across the globe. It’s old and cyni-
cal and utterly ruthless and it thinks
it can last as long as the accursed
principle of divide ajid rule. But
it’s got a weak spot!” He mas-
saged his chin bristles vigorously.
■’Definitely, it has a weak spot! It
could be made to collapse like a
house of cards. Heaven help the
lot of us if we don’t bring it down
with one blow, at the right time, in
the right place. Heaven help the
whole of humanity, for their monu-
ments will be a series of those huge,
mushroom-shaped clouds rising from
a sea of lamentations !”

Looking serious, Quinn juggled
his controls as the plane dipped
and side-slipped.

“The Four Horsemen,” continued
Armstrong, speaking to, . himself,
“they shall go forth through the
lands and, tl'iere shall be sounds of
weeping wherever breath is drawn.
There will be atom bombs and neo-
bubonic pandemics — the arrow that
flieth by day and the pestilence that
stalketh by night !” His voice
rasped on Quinn’s cars. “Neither
can we save ourselves by a world-
wide smelling out of witches, for
the witches are too many, too scat-
tered, too cleverly disguised.” He
leaned forward, said to Quinn, “But
what if all their witchcraft suddenly
becomes ten thousand years behind
the times ?”

“Eh ?” Quinn was startled.

XVI.

Completing their turn, they hit
the northward route at twenty thou-
sand feet above Council Bluffs and
from there followed the Missouri
up into the Dakotas. Still the ether
maintained silence on the short-wave
bands. Either the slaughter at
Singleton’s had not yet been dis-
covered or else the real perpetrators
weren’t yet suspected. Probably
the latter decided Armstrong, know-
ing the obsessions of his antago-
nists. At this very moment, in alb
probability, they were making futile
attempts to identify Dr^e from
their lists of Martian deportees.
The longer they continued to bark
up the wrong tree, the greater the
fugtives’ period of grace — and they
could do with every hour of it,
every minute.

The plane roared on, its jets

DRK.^DFUL S.\NCTUARY

AST— 5X 131

might open out — like a flower in the
sunsliine.

But at that exact moment, fifty-
thousand steel-ltjidded feet were
demonstrating the long forgotten
Passo Romano, the totalitarian
goose-step, along Turin’s Via
Milano, Atomic warheads were
being loaded onto hydraulic eleva-
tors in underground factories in
the Urals, A lake of broth, seeth-
ing with cultures, was being strained
at France’s Bacteriological Research
Station at Lyons, A test-shower
of phosphorus pelUcules was satis-
factorily burning up a field of wheat
in Bulgaria. British newspapers
were busily hounding out of public
life a leading political personality
who had dared to say that the road
to war is not the path to peace.

Through press-recorders, over
the radio and television networks,
along each and every conceivable
channel of propaganda swelled the
flood of lies, half-truths and willful
misrepresentations which, if main-
tained long enough and made strong
enough, would sweep the world’s
cretins from their precarious hold
on individual life and into the sea
of death. The chorus of suspicion
and hatred slowly but surely was
building itself up to the culmination
^Jesired by those controlling it —
kill or be killed !

Already the smear-technique was
dealing with those unwilling to con-
form. Later, when frenzied masses
were psychologically prepared for
it, the smear-technique would give
^vay to the blank wall and the firing
squad. First- make the mob scream
for Barabbas — then let them crucify

l>REAI>Pnr, SANCTCARV

their own ! Like <iogs saiivating'tft
the chime of the Pavlovian bell 1 -

The rolling world was beginning
to reel, but over it the solitary plane
plummeted on. -In London, two
swarthy aliens twenty miles apart
cautiously unpacked and buried spe-
cial containers holding* plutonium
at sixty per cent of critical mass.
In due time they’d be brought to-
gether— but not yet, not just yet.
In Baltimore, a squad of alert secret
service agents seized a cylinder of
chorium oxide, killed its owner,
made fourteen arrests elsewhere. In
Essen, Germany, a retort full of
radioactive fluorine blew apart and
eighty workers promptly became
those for whom the bell tolls. Ten
more acquired a new and appall-
ingly virulent form of leprosy, a
phenomenon regarded by profes-
sional chaos-mongers as of immensb
Iielp to humanity’s backward march
alofig the road to oblivion. But stilh
the plane roared on.

Quinn- made a dexterous, one-
minute landing on a natural runway
near Bismarclc, well out of sight of
the local skyport. One of Han-
sen’s toughies got out, then Claire,
then Horowitz who stood on the
grass blinking owllshly around.

"Maybe you’re a native-born
Martian, maybe youTe not,” Arm-
strong said to the latter, speaking
from his vantage-point in the fuse-
lage. “Maybe I’m a pink giraffe,
myself. Maybe all this Martian
stuff is a lot of malarky. Life’s
chock-full of ma>l>es. isn’t it?” He
grinned, showing big, white teeth.
“And one more of them is — maybe

133

get where we’re planning to

goT

, Horowitz offered no reply, but
:his magnified* optics were cold as
they regarded the -other.

“Keep him out of circulation at
least seventy-two hours,” Armstrong
instructed the Hansen-agent.
“After that, toss him to the F.B.I.
Whatever you do, don’t lose him.
Blow his nut off if he gets out of
step with you.”

“It’ll take him all his time to
stay alive,” promised the escort,
dourly.

“Oh, John.” Chiire looked up,
her tip-tilted eyes anxious. “John,
I—

“And maybe I’ll be seeing
again,” he told her, with feeling.
He flipped her an envelope which
she caught and put in her pocket.
“Stay close with the others, and
watch his Snakeship the Martian
until he’s handed over. Then beat
it to Gregory. You’ll be all right.
Don’t worry about us.” He studied
her as if photographing her piquant
fea.tures in his mind, “ 'Bye,
Pixie !”

He closed the fuselage door.
Quinn boosted the machine off the
ground, gained height rapidly. Sit-
ting beside him, Armstrong frowned
thoughtfully through the transpex
until the three figures on the ground
were lost to sight.

“That goggle-eyed bigbrain is as
Martian as my left foot,” he said,
suddenly. “To use an Irishism, if
I’m sane and he’s sane then one
of us is nuts.”

“He can prove he’s sane,” Quinn
pointed out.

1S4

“What of it? Suppose we end
up by proving him a liar?”

“You’ve got something there.”
Quinn mused a unoment. “Good
liars have changed the course of
history, and done it bloodily.
They’re a menace. I feel it in my
bones that he’s just such a menace.”
“Me, too.” Leaving Quinn, he
stepped carefully along the fuselage,
took the seat by Hansen, said to
the saturnine agent: “We’re cross-
ing the border.” He nodded toward
the countryside beneath. “Another
crime — illegal entry.”

Hansen sniffed disdainfully.
“That worries me. It’s sheer de-
fiance of authority. It’s naughty.”
His eyes keened at the other, “Why
did you dump your heart throb?”
“I wanted her out of the way
on our last lap. We’re gambling —
win or sink. I won't risk her sink-
ing w'ith me. So she’s taking a
letter to Gregory telling him what
has happened so far, and what we’re
aiming to do. He can work out his
best moves from that.” Rumina-
tively, he paused, added. “What’s of
most importance, though she doesn't
realize it, is that I’ve got her out
of the way before the end comes.”
“The end ?”

“The end of this cliase.”

.Hansen said, “Oh!” and looked
mystified.

In front, Quinn gave the radio
another whirl. A brassy blare came
forth; “Skkldin’ With My Shiver-
Kid.” With a pained expression,
he switched to another band, got
the tail-end of a talk on the in-
ternational situation.

ASTOUNDINC SOIEXCE-FICTION

. and in themselves the peo-
ples of these countries do not want
war any more than we want war.
Like us, diey have troubles enough
and desire nothing better than to be
left to solve their own problems in
peace. Like us, they believe in the
four freedoms.” The speaker’s
voice liardened. **These are their
natural instincts, . the instincts of
little people who want to be left
alone. But when they are not
permitted to exercise their natural
instincts, when their every channel
of information is poisoned at its
source so that they are hopelessly
misled about the sentiments and
intentions of their n^rest neighlx>rs,
when they are forced to live in a
false and illusionary world which
constantly is depicted to them as
murderously hostile, then eventually
may they be persuaded to run amok,
sword in hand, willing to die in de-
fense of a way of life which has
never been threatened. Reluctantly,
regretfully, with heavy heart but
powerful hand, we, too, sliall then
be compelled to draw the sword to
protect all 'those things which we
hold dear. There is no other way
out, no other alternative. We must
be prepared to fight — or be pre-
jxired to die!”

Cutting off the radio, Quinn
twisted around in his seat, pulled a
face at’ Armstrong. The latter
turned and’ looked at Womcrsley
glowerii^ two seats behind.

Armstrong said to Hansen:
‘‘That speaker was right, of course,
rd say w^’.ve more sane ones in
this country than anywhere else, but
that won’t keep, us out of tlie re-

.I>UEAT>Flir. SANCTV’ARy

suiting melee once the rest of the
world’s lunatics stampede.” - .

”It might be better if the darn^
world did go haywire,” suggest^
Hansen. ‘‘Everyone would then be
far too busy to bother about small
fry like us — the F.B.I. and the cops
would have bigger game to pursue.”
“You don’t mean tliat. I know
you don’t mean it. You wouldn’t
wreck the planet just to insure that
you became one of the forgotten.”
“No, I reckon I wouldn’t. Ulti-
mately I might find myself in a
worse fix — a wandering savage,
maybe.” His dark eyes were medi-
tative. “You know that as a nation
we aren’t a warmon^ring crowd.
We’re not tlie kind to spill blood
and gloat over it. Collectively,
we’re of a type which enables the
President and Gregory and their
supporters to have a better chance
of keeping things cool than they’d
have anywhere else iii the world.
If an3rthing starts, it won’t be us
who starts it. Perhaps it’s because
we’re a little less loony or a little
more sane than they are elsewhere.”
“Perhaps,” Armstrong admitted.
“I know that you’ve got some
plan on your iiiiiid,” Hansen con-
tinued, “and I don’t doubt that it’s
so nutty tliat even the world’s im-
beciles will know you’re mad — and
what beats me is how you hope to
influence them. In America you
can summon more plain, ordinary
common sense to your side than
, you could dig up any place else,
i)ut what good will it do if you
can’t cut the ground from under
millions of other lunatics? When

1»A

£^1;^ i^iupede, boy, it’s going to be
’^iic rash!*^-

‘ ■^"Once when I was a kid I saw
i-herd of cattle panic,” Armstrong
said, reminiscently. “About four
hundred of them. Black ones,
brown ones, white ones, piebald
Qtes; -some with long horns, some
wdth short. Cattle* of all kinds.
Th^ milled around, set their heads
the- same way, charged off hell-bent
for they knew not where. They
thtmdered two hundred yards to a
narrow bend, turned it, found two
cussing cowpokes fighting like
maniacs right in their path. They
riowed down, milled a bit, slowed
more, then stopped. Finally they
stood around the fighters and
watched the battle. By the time it
was over they’d forgotten what
started them on the run.” His elbow
dug Hansen gently in the ribs.
“Spectacular diversion, see?”

Hansen said : “Uh ?” '

“Then the boys tuyned up, urged
the steers back to their pasture.
Soon the birds were twittering in
the trees and all was' tranquil once
more.” He called to Quinn :
“Where are we, George?”

. “Over Peace Rh^er. Not much
longer ’to go.”

“Peace River,” he said to Han-
sen. “Do you believe in omens?”

The 'suii had become a ball of
flaming orange low in the west
when e^'entually Quinn called him
forward. He. stared through the
transpex, his face intent, bis pulse
beating heavily.

Yellowknife lay dimly in the dis-
tance a few degrees to starboard.

Beneath, copper colored by the set-
ting ;sun, sprawled the glistening
area of the Great Slave Lake. To
one side reared the Horn Moun-
tains, tipped with snow sun-tinged
a bright red.

Th^ jetted arrowlike across the.
lake between Yellowknife and
Providence, followed its northward
arm toward Rae. This kept th^
free for a while of direct observa-
tion from the ground. Gaining
height before they r^ched the
shore, they made a wide sweep east,
then south, eventually found the
railroad-spur running from Yellow-
knife-to Reliance. The rocket as-
sembly plant stood on this spur
twelv€' miles east of Yellowknife.

Approaching from the north, they
permitted themselves only the
briefest glimpse of the plant. One
snatch of recognition was sufficient,
and Armstrong snapped quickly :
“That’s. the dump!” Quinn prompt-
ly turn^ his plane around, dropped
it earthward in a direction away
from the plant. They came down
to two hundred feet, spent a quarter
of an hour zigzagging over dan-
gerously craggy terrain before find-
ing a suitable landing place. Ex-
pertly, Quinn dropped the machine
on a. half-mile flat, let it trundle
to a stop. The assembly plant was
now out of sight just over the
southern horizon, while Yellowknife
was barely visible to the w’est.

Abandoning 'his controls with a
sigh of relief,, Quinn stood up.
stretch^ himself, exercised stiff
muscles. .“Now to see whether we
get a bang on the beak.” Opening
the fuselage door, he studied the

139

ASTOUNT>T!Ca SCIENOB-FICTION

darkening sky with wary eyes. “If
there’s a radar lookout at that plant,
and if it spotted us coming down,
something will come buzzing over
to examine us mighty sroon.”

“I know it.” Armstrong squeezed
jjast him, got out of tlic plane,
stamped on the hard, cold earth.
“But I still think luck is riding with
us — and I want to play it to the
limit, while, it lasts. Heck, we’ve
been lucky even in that it had to
be this time of the year — some
other time all this would have been
ten feet deep in snow.”

One of Hansen’s men growled
from his seat behind the soured
and silent Womersley: “Right now
I could do with being ten feet deep
in hamburgers !”

“Me, too !” indorsed the agent.

Womersley licked his Ups
moodily.

“Tliere’s a big lunch box in the
tail,” Armstrong told them. “It
was put in at the skyport.” He
.smiled as the hungry complainant
dived from his seat toward the rear
of the fuselage. •

Quinn jumped down from the
doorway, kept careful watch on the
sky. The rim of the sun had now
disappeared below the Horn Moun-
tains and a pall of darkness was
spreading from the east. The en-
tire southern terrain was grim,
silent, devoid of life as far as the
eye could see, but there was a faint,
primrose glow beyond the horizon
where the rocket plant stood, and
tiny twinkles of light were beginning
to appear in Yellowknife, to the
west. No planes came roaring
through the twilight, intent on in-

DRR.^nFUL SANCTUARY

vestigating the grounded madiine.
Either their cautious approach had
passed* unnoticed, or suspicions had
been lulled when they’d turned
away.

Bearing a load of sandwiches,
Hansen got out of the plane, handed
some to the others, munched witli
them while he observed the onward
creep of night. He shivered, spoke
around a mouthful of food.

“If this is the far north, give
me Miami 1” He looked inquiringly
at Armstrong. “Now we’re here —
what next ?”

“The remaining step is to take
up one or both of those rockets —
or die in the attempt,” Armstrong
replied, slowly and thoughtfully.

Hansen dropped a sandwich,
picked it up, bit into it, dirt and
all. He bit his thumb as wdl, swore,
transferred the sandwich to his
other hand. .He ate mechanically,
like a man who hardly knows what
he is doing. Twice he paused as if
about to say something, clianged his
mind, chewed hurriedly, swallowed
with difficulty,

“George, I was never more seri-
ous in my life. You know the
situation ; in every particular it’s de-
signed to prevent any rocket getting
some place external to Earth. That
is the fundamental purpose of the
whole set-up, and beside it all other
purposes fade into insignificance.
So un.scrupulous, so determined and
so desperate are world-wide ma-
chinations aimed at preventing any
rocket from reaching the Moon that
it makes obvious two very important
points.”

t«7

*%M bn.”

it tells- us that the
saboteurs have satisfied themselves
beyond all doubt that the latest
types of rockets represent a stage
of development where Moon-con-
quest is in the bag — if the rockets
aren’t tampered with beforehand.
That’s something worth knowing,
for thQr’ve got technical details not
a^^ulaMe to us, and have some basis
for judgment. Secondly, it also
tdfe us that if— despite all their at-
tempts to prevent it — one rocket
does get to the Moon, it will? thus
create a new psychic factor of such
potency that world-circumstances
will undergo radical alteration and
the world-plot will collapse. It \vill
collapse for the excellent reason that
it will have been deprived of its
prime purpose. The plotters will
disperse, powerless and discredited,
like end-of-the-world ciiltists when
their long prophesied Day of Judg-
ment fails to arrive. Their fanati-
cs function has been to stop John
Doe and Richard Roe from break-
ing his bonds, stepping out of this
world and into the cosmos.” His
body loomed huge and bearlike in
the gathering dusk. “So it’s iip to
Richard to open the door! As I
before, a rocket on the Moon
is mate in one move!"

Quinn protested: “I’ll give you
all that, but how do we know those
rockets are ready? And how do
we know that they won't be shot
off at the appointed time, without
any help from us?”

“Womersley blabbed under the
schizophraser, when he was in no
condition to tell lies. He simply had

iss

to tell the truth. He said that one
rocket has been officially r^K>rted as
r^dy for its test-flight. The other
was then so n^rly prepared that it
ought to be ready by now. Test-
flights and resulting modifications
and large dollops of snafu will waste
another month or more. If the
holocaust starts before then, you
know and I know that those two
ships will never take off for the
Moon— they’ll be altered and blown
somewhere else where they'll do
plenty of damage. Moreover, just
in case someone does get smart and
tries tQ beat the plotters to the
draw, the fuel coils have been fooled
with. They’re slated to blow apart
near the Moon.”

“So we take ’em up and blow
apart with them?”

“Not with fuel for a thirty-thou-
sand miles test flight also on board !
Not if we gamble on long odds and
take them away without a test

flightr

• “Yes, ye gods!” admitted Quinn.
“That’s true enough. If they take
off untested, they’ll have a ten per
cent fuel overload at the very least.
A good margin! And if that ex-
plosion point is set at a stage where
the remaining fuel represents less
than the overioad, the ship will have
landed before its consumption
reaches that point.” He flourished
his hands in nervous excitement.
“But what a risk! What a plaih,
downright, lunatic gamble! Only
the goofiest of galoots would try'
it!”

“I’m willing.”

“Without a preliminary test
flight we’ve no way of knowing

ASTOUNDING SCIENCB-PICTION

whether those boats are really fit to
make the long trip. A hundred to
one both of them will need modifi-
cations of sorts to be discovered
only in free flight. How the deuce
can a solitary pilot do an engineer-
ing job on his vessel when he’s
lialfway to the Moon and going
faster than zip? Besides, we don’t
know precisely where that explo-
sion point is. Suppose that it's
timed for one hour after take-off —
the extra fuel will do no more than
postpone the big bang by five or
six hours. It’ll occur just the same,
and down will come cradle, baby and
all!”

“I told you the blowup is due
near the Moon. It’s staged near
the end of the fuel coil. The ship
should go to blazes on the braking
approach, about where most of the
others busted. Womersley said so.
llie extra test flight fuel ought to
cover that margin three times over,
in my opinion. As for going up
without a test, there’s no alternative
tliat I can see. If we leave those
Ixwits alone, they’ll go their . own
bureaucratic way, wasting weeks
while they accord with officially pre-
scribed formula, and eventually get-
ting nowhere. Time is the critical
factor. Time waits for no man —
and the whole world is betting its
collective life on a few potent hours,
a few potent minutes. George, we
have got to bounce those rockets
higher than a kite — either that or
we backslide through eternity!”

^‘}Ve bounce them?” __ Quinn
stared around as if seeking a ghost.
“'Who’s the other pilot?”

V^Me.”

Hansen J)olted a piece of sand-
wich and said ; “Now I know this
world’s a madhouse.”

“Ob, youT Momentarily, Quinn
was lost for words. Then he said :
“What d’you know about piloting
s|)acc rockets ?”

“A fair amount theoretically, but
niy practical experience doesn’t
exist. It’s high time I learned. I’ll
have to get it from you.”

“Mother, listen to him!”

“There are two rockets because
they’re intended to go together,”
Armstrong explained, patiently.
“That means they’ll share a micro^
wave channel. Their pilots can talk
to one another. You’re going to
talk and tell me what to do.”

“Boy, I can see myself! Let me
tell you, you oversized hunk of
stupidity, that handling a space
rocket at take-off is worse than
riding a drunken comet. Can you
imagine me dinging desperately to
the controls, juggling with hundreds
_of tons going up like a bat out of
hell, and calmly lecturing you how
to do the same?”

“Of course not. So I take off
first, under your instructions —
you’ll be telling me how. When
either I’ve got safely away or have
smeared myself over the bottom of
a crater, you blow free. If I’m still
running, it’s up to you to get within
talking distance again — if you can.”
“It’s abetting suicide !” Quinn
declared, positively.

“That’s exactly how I felt about
you when I was concocting those
gadgets for number eighteen. What
makes you think you’re the only guy
with a right to break his own neck ?”

DltEADFUT. SANCTUAET

139

ve-STr^^y*re both batty/’ opin^ Han-
'gloomily. *‘Batty and scatty,
heavens there’s not a’ third
«d fourth boat. You’d have me
Rioting one and Miriam the other.”
' “I wish there were,” said Arm-
strong. “Yqu'd be in them!”
“That’s what you think ! I know
I’ni sane without needing any psy-
chotrons.to .tell me I”

“Suppose that I refuse to' take
in this crackpot scheme ?”
Quiiln asked.^

' “You’re our key-man. Without
you we’re sunk. You know that,
G^rge. But, sunk or not. I’d go
tiy- it by myself. I’ve not come
diis far merely to turn back.”

“So you’d step in and snatch all
my glory ?” Quinn wagged his head
sadly. “What a friend, what a
friend !” He looked up, grinning.
“Not while I’m standing under my
hair, you won’t !” He sobered, and
went od, “For myself, I don’t care
a hoot — if I did I’d never have been
chosen for number eighteen. I
don’t like the idea of you trying
to handle the other boat. You’ll
crush your thick, stubborn skull, and
that will do you no good — and it’ll
do no one else any good, either.”
“Two chances are better than
one, even if the second is amateurish
and with greater odds gainst it.”
“Yes, I know.” Quinn kicked
a pebble viciously. “There are two
fully qualified pilots somew'here in-
side that assembly plant and there’s
a tgpnotdi chance that they’re peo-
ple I know and who know me. I
think it would be wiser to get in
touch with one of them and per-
suade him to collaborate.”

“A very good idea. Now tell
me how we're going to search that
place for A pilot without being
pinched in the process, and . how
we’re going to persuade him — ail be-
fore dawn.”

“Dawn?” Quinn gaped. “Are
you thinking of taking off tonight?”
“If we can get into those ships
without mishap.”

Solemnly, Quinn extracted from
his pocket a heavy automatic which
he’d acquired during the fracas at
Singleton’s. Ejecting its magazine,
he made sure that it was full,
rammed it back into place, returned
it to his pocket.

“Give me another sandwich and
I’m ready.”

Hansen gave him one, s^d
hoarsely to Armstrong : “Where do
I feature in this daffy per-
formance ?”

“I want Miriam to guard
Womersley and the maid until you
return. I want you and the other
man to help us bust into the plant
and reach those ships.”

“And after that?”

“Beat it back here, if you can.
You'll manage it, I think.- If one
or both of those ships suddenly
blow free, it’ll cause such a hulla-
baloo that a dozen could march out
of the plant without being noticed.
When you get back here, collect
the rest, make for Yellowknife, put
a call through to Gregory, tell Wm
everything you know, and leave it
to him protect you. If one of
us gets away safely, and makes it
to the Moon, Gregory will be in a
powerful position. He’ll be able <o

149

ASTOUNDING SCIENCP.-FTCTION

vhiteWasil you so that your own
mother won't know you.”

“If this, if that and if the other,”
said Hansen, with open skepticism.
“What if you don’t blow free ?”

“We’i! all be in the soup, and
said soup will be red-hot.” His
laugh was harsh. “We're in it al-
ready, aren't we, so what's the dif-
ference? This is our only out!”

“You' win!” Hansen went to the
plane, issued instructions to Mir-
iam, came back with the other.

No further words were spoken
as the four tramped steadily toward
the southward glow. A cold wind
blew briskly across the rocky
ground ; the sky was now devoid of
any random gleam from the buried
sun but brilliant 'starlight and a
sickle Moon served^ to make clear
their way. They were grim as they
marched onward, each occupied
with his own thoughts. The glow
on the horizon grew stronger as
they neared.

The rocket assembly plant cov-
ered considerable acreage, had a
ten-foot h^h wire fence around it,
and was patrolled on the outside by
armed sentries. At one end of the
huge compound lay the administra-
tive buildings surmounted by a large
flagpole on which no Hag could be
seen by the shifting light of wind-
tossed arcs ; at the other end bulked
machine sh<^s, test shops and
Stores. In the great space l^tween,
iialf a mile apart, soared the tre-
mendous finned and tubed cylinders
which were Moon-rockets numbers
nineteen and twenty.

A long, narrow boarding-ladder

ran high up the side Of. tiie neafest
rocket whose entry port was closed
Keeping well out of sight of
sentries, the four sneaked arounl
the area to the opposite side, found
a similar ladder mounted against
the other rocket.

There were several entrances
through that intervening fence
which, in the dim, uncertain light,
looked as if it might be electrified.
Large gates, heavily guarded, broke
the fence on two sides where the
railroad spur entered and left the
forbidden territory. FoUi* very
small gates were set in the fence at
its corners. At regular intervals of
twenty minutes, each sentry went
through one of these small gates,
pressed a button set on a post within
the compound, relocked the ^te and
resumed his beat.

Lying low in the semidarkness,
the four watched the sentries for
more than an hour while they
gained a proper understanding of
the routine. Pairs of sentijes
started from each corner, patrolled
at fast pace to the center of each
side, turned back when within
recc^nition-distance of each other,
pressed the button on reaching the
corner, and started all over again.
Each individual made regular con-
tact with two others, one on the
corner and one at the middle, and
tliis meant (liat the knockii^ out
of any one of them automatically
would alarm all the rest within- a
few minutes.

“There are eight altogether, not
counting those at the railroad
gates,” Armstrong whispered to the
others. “We can’t flatten the lot

l)RnAJ>FtII, SANCTn-^EY

141

Q^jlheiEi. The onljr thing to do is
tov jle^ wi^ a pair of them at a
Of^er, just after they’ve stabbed
^ securi^ button. It’d take the
others about ten minutes to reach
the middle and find nobody to meet
them, maybe another three minutes
to race back to a corner gate and
sound the alarm. That gives us say
thirteen minutes to reach those ships
and start climbing fast. It could
be done easily to the nearest one.
The farthest means an extra half-
mile sprint. I reckon I can make
it if nobody stops me in full gallop.”

. “Stops you?” hissed Quinn, in
low tones. “Who said you’re tak-
ing the farthest one?”

“My legs say, Shorty. They’re
twice the length of yours.”

Quinn emitted a disgruntled :
“Humph I”

“Let’s get round to that corner
and snake up as near as we can
get while those patrols are near
the middle. We’ll give them time
to prod the button, then rush them.”
He grasped Hansen’s arm in the
gloom. “See that those guys don’t
utter a squeak after they've been
^downed. Sit on them ^ptil the
other sentries start whooping — then
beat it yourselves as fast as you can
go. Don’t wait to see what happens
to George and me — shift your dog^
as if you're after a million dollars !”

Wraithlike, they stole through the
shadows to the comer, waited for
the sratries to near the middle,
slipped to within twenty yards of the
fence and lay flat among the
boulders. Twenty minutes later
the sentries returned. Armstrong

watched them unlock the gate, press
the button on the post. Decidedly
those corner gates were weak spots,
but for the double locks needing
two keys they might have been able
to bust in without rushing anyone.
The sentries came out, began to
close the gate. Despite the cold
wind his body was strangely warm
as he arose, poised on his feet.

That twenty yards seemed like
fifty, and the pounding of his shoes
on the hard rock sounded like warn-
ing thunder. Someone was snorting
besiv'e him, two more hammering
noisily , to his left. The sentries
were amazingly , slow of hearing;
He’d got to wi^n jumping distance
of one . of them before the fellow
turned and blinked uncertainly into
the darkness. He hit the sentry
like a runaway elephant, knocking
him flat. The other was still fid-
dling with a key in the gate when
Hansen and Quinn fell , on hini
simultaneously.

Armstrong didn’t wait. Living
his victim to Hansen’s man, he re-
versed the key, shouldered the gate
open, grabbed Quinn, lugged him
through.

“Quick, George — take .the
nearest 1”

Lifting big, pistonlike arms to his
sides, he hurled his great body along
beneath the waving arcs. Quinn
was five yards behind him when
he passed the first rocket.

No alarm yet had sounded, no
voice had bellowed wamii^ly when
Quinn reached the ladder and
started scrambling up it like a
scared monkey. The little pilot was
talking to himself as he climbed.

ASTOONDINQ SCIBNCE-PICTlOll

“Ltt that lock be open 1 Let it
not be fastened !”

He glanced aside when fifty feet
up, saw the dim outline of Arm-
strong’s burly figure plunging on-
ward in the distance. There were
few peopfe about. Three men
w'ere talking outside the administra-
tive building apparently quite un-
conscious of what was going on.
Two more were standing under an
arc a hundred yards away and star-
ing bemusedly after the running
Armstrong. From a large steel
building to . the north came sounds
of music and much laughter. A
camp concert. Quinn spat down-
W'ard, continued to climb rapidly.

Two men in gray denims were
passing the base of the second
rocket as Armstrong raced up to it.'
They gaped at him, blinked uncer-
tainly, gaped again. With delayed ~
presence of mind, one of them
stepped into his path.

“Hey, you, what’s the hurry ?
What d’you think you’re — ?’’

Armstrong handed him a liay-
niaker. The fellow arced backward
under the pow’erful blow% his feet
leaving the ground. Armstrong
whirled sidewise, swerved and
ducked elusively before the other
man, found that the fellow’s
-Startled confusion had made him
easy meat. Giving him no time to
gather his wits, he laid him out
like a corpse, scrambled frantically
up the ladder.

Hell broke loose as he reached -
the thirteenth rung. A chorus of
enraged shouts and several shots
sounded beyond the fence. Pink
gouts spurred in the distant darkness

and something whined shrilljf'* off '
the administrative building’s ste^
roof. The three talkers outside df
it promptly, dropped and scrambled'
for safety on all fours. He was
twenty rungs higher when a great
number of auxiliary lights flooded
the entire camp and an alarm gong
began its clamor.

Now halfway up, he continued to
climb in brilliant illumination. At
one corner of the assembly station
a thirty-inch searchlight shot its
beam skyward, lowered it, swung it
over surrounding terrain.. The
shooting had now ceased. Men,
shouting and gesticulating, were
pouring from the main doors of
the concert building. “ Fiye more,
two of them bearing automatic
rifles, raced at top speed past the
base of the rocket without looking
upw’ard. The two he had bowled
over had now regained their feet
and were gazing after the five
runners.

He was gasping for breath and
still striving to increase the speed
of his dimh. The thought that
the lock might prove to be fastened
did not occur to him. ‘Neither did
he remember that one of the rockets
might not be ready, or ponder
whether this were the one. Two
things only filled his mind. One
was the thought of a clot; if, un-
known and unsuspected by^^im, he
had a dot, this would pump it into
his heart. A black-wrapped mind,
a failing grip, legs devoid of
strength, and a sudden fall would
be the first and only indication.
His other worry was that someone
with a rifle might look up, see him

I>EE.iDFUL S.4NCTUAnY

148

him down like a plugged
-Eight more men, all armed,
past die bottom of his
bidder arid toward the fence. The
t#h at the foot made up their
minds and ran after them. Obvi-
ously they had not seen him jufnp
the ladder.

The searchlight swung right
rtmnd, its beam passing directly
over him, spotlighting him for a
'second like a trapeze artist in a
circus.^ Still he was not noticed.
All attention remaine3 on that far
fence. A second searchlight opened
up, then a third. Twenty mcw'e
rungs . . . ten . . . five. He shoved
frtuitically at the closed door of
the lode. It opened.

Thankfully, he writhed through
the small, circular hole. Tempor-
arily he was out of sight of those
bdow and - therefore out of mind.
Unhitching the top of the ladder,
he shoved it away, heard it clatter
no^ily to the ground. Somier or
later that would draw attention to
the ship as nothing else had done.
But getting him out now that he
was in would be a tough task.
In effect, he was in a vault, or a
^lindrical fortress. Gulping as he
drew in great lungfuls of breath,
he secured the door of the lock.

Finding the pilot’s seat, he fas-
tened hims^f in it, fixed the •head-
phones on his head, pressed a stud
marked: Intercom. The phones
livened up.

“You there, George?” he mur-
mured into his lar>mx-mike.

“Yes, Fm here.”

“Can they hear us on this?”

144

“I don^t think SO. There’s a* stud
marked : Grojtnd (m the board.
That’s their ebannd. We’ve got
one of our own, ter cut out inter-
ference.’- Quinn paused, then said :
“You were a deuce of a time!
thought you’d failed to make it.” ■
“Time goes mighty slow when
you’re waiting and jumpy — ^likc at
the dentist's.” He coughed, en-
joyed ' deep breaths. “All right,
Geoi^e-r-Fm ready. Start talkii^.”
“Take it easy and keep cool,” ad-
vised Quinn. “You could squat
there for weeks and keep them at
arm’s length. Blow your stern jets
whervevw they come near and you’ll
scald their feet off.”

“I don’t w^nt to burn anyohe’s
dogs. I’ve nothing against them.
Say your piece and let me blast
off.”

“O.K.,” Quinn’s voice had a
metallic timbre in the phones.
“Lever on your right, marked : F J*.,
is the fuel-feed control. Move it
one notch. Detonate with the red
stud immediately in front of you.
Your tubes will start blowing at
miniratmi power and they’ll need
a full two minutes to warm up.
Watch the chronometer — it won’t
be safe to give them any less.”
Phlegmatically, Armstrong did
as instructed. His foam-rubber
seat began to quiver under him.
The whole fabric of the v^sel de-
veloped a rhythmic tremble fjrom
end to end. 'Dust rose from the
ground, obscured the observation
port over his head. He could ima-
gine la tremendous- sensatiem
throughout the camp, with ‘much
scurrying around, much bawling of

ASTOUNDING SCIBNCE-PICTION

hasty orders, but he could sec noth-
ing, hear nothing.

Quinn went on talking, his tones
calm, even, unhurried. Armstrong
lengthened the blast. His hands, his
hair and the back of his neck were
warm and wet when Quinn suddenly
shouted, “. . . and for the love of
heaven keep that swing-indicator
centralized! Now — boost!'’

He rammed the control over to
boost point. The ship produced an
organlike and eerie moan, rose
slowly, very slowly. The cloud

thickened over the observation port.
The moan grew louder and half a
note higher. The ship seemed al-
most to crawl through the cloud.
Quinn was gabbling fifty to the
dozen.

■‘Ignore the port. Ignore the

sky. Keep your eyes on those in-
struments. Correct the side-swings.
Don’t let her drift away from the
perpendicular. Watch that swing
indicator!”

The sluggish upward creep ceased
all of a sudden, and the vessel in-
creased speed perceptibly. It rose
faster, faster. It was going up like
an elevator. It was going up like
a jet hghter. It was going up like
a rocket I

In the phones, Quinn’s voice be-
gan to fade gradually as he con-
tinued : “Keep her going that way.
Ibon’t reduce power on any stern-
pipe. Maintain the full blast.
Watch that swing!” He stopped,
then his voice returned very weak-
ly, “Can you still hear me, John ?”

“Only just.”

“All right. My turn now. I’m
taking off.”

Silence for a long time. Arm-
strong sat heavy -pressed in^iis seat
while the ship sliuddered and
moaned. He kept his whole atten-
tion on his instruments, avoided
looking at the increasingly brilliant
glitters in the sky.

The swing indicator registered a
two degree tilt. He corrected it by
swift angling of the stern-stream
stabilizer vanes. ( Gradually the tilt
came l)ack, slid to three and a half
degrees. He corrected it again
with an oA crboost on the appropri-
ate tubes. The ship, ran straight
for a while, resumed its tilt. He
compensated once more.

After a full hour, Quinn’s voice
speared into the ether. ‘’Are you
with me, John? I’m up, way up.
Can you hear me?” Silence while
the moments crawled by, then,
sharply: ‘‘John, can you hear me?
Are you still running?^’ A long
lull, followed by: “I can’t see you,
John, \^'hat’s the matter? For
Pete’s sake don’t start acting funny
at this time! If you can hear me,
come back, will you? John . . .
John ... are you all right? Are
you still moving? Have 1 got this
... all to myself?” Nothing re-
sponded, nothing. The .steady moan
of his own ship was the only de-
tectable sound in the whole of cre-
ation. Finally, Quinn said, “Oh,
heavens!” His -voice vanished from
the ether as he released his stud
and closed the channel.

XVH.

I.eaving the telephone. General
Gregory marched restlessly up and

ORKAnFT'T- 8.4NCTUART

145

lus carpet. Seated in a deep
<^r, not reposefuUy, but erect and
Claire Mandle watched him
wide» dp'tilted eyes.

,J>; “That was Hansen. Whether I
^ clear him and his aides — and
all the others for that matter — de-
pends entirely on what happens
.next. Senator Womersley is the
crux my problem; Womersley
and the mob he represents both in
diis country and out of it. If he
chooses to make yet more trouble,
K is likely, he ' can make plenty.
He and his tribe can make more
than 1 can cool down despite the
support given me by the President
and certain influential members of
die government. This Norman
gang is all over the place, and our
jurisdiction doesn’t extend every-
where. That makes things tough.”
He gnawed his mustache savagely.
“But if this crazy venture of Arm-
strong’s comes off, well, Womers-
^’s crowd won’t be able to find
hiding-places -quickly enough. Arm-
strong, Quinn, Hansen and the rest
automatically would be cleared.
World opinion would demand it.”
He looked at her, smiled reassur-
ii^ly. “No matter what laws may
say, or how they may be written,
public heroes cannot be burned at
the stake. There are times when
the law must give way to expediency
— because the people say so, with
>ne voice!”

“What did Hansen say?” she
asked.

“He’s in the calaboose at Ydlow-
knife along with his secretary and
<uic of his men. Womersley is
stamping around breathing fire and

14S

fury and reciting a long list of
charges against all and sundry.
Womersley w<m’t like it when he
finds I’ve got Hansen out and have
ordered a i^^ne to bring him here.”
“What did he say about the
rocketships ?” she persisted.

“They got aWay.”

“Is that all ?”

“Isn’t that enough, young lady?”
She nodded reluctantly, “t sup-
pose it is. Can’t we find out what
has happened to them? Are they
really on their way, both of them?
How far have they got? How soon'
shall we know whether — ?"

“As soon as I can learn anything
definite. I'll tell you.” he promised.

“But surely we should know
something by now ? They've been
gone fourteen hours. They should
be about a third of the way there
if — ” She stopped, her egression
pathetic.

“If they’ve been lucky,” he fin-
ished for hn. “There is nothing
on the newscasts and won’t be any-
thing unless it’s too spectacular to
suppress. Those rockets were
rather secret, see? Admittedly, how
secret has become a matter of con-
siderable doubt, but for reasons of
high policy we don’t want to ad-
vertise them before it is necessary.”
“Don’t the observatories* know
how they’re progressing?”

“What the observatories know
they will keep to themselves until
it becomes something well worth
idling. All news will be withhdd
as long as possible. That’s just in
case we're unfortunate and have
two flops dumped in our lap —

ASTOONDINO SCIBKCB-FICTION

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a anall chance tliat they’ll
pass tinmendoned, unnoticed.”

She ; regarded him levelly, her
discontent obvious. “Would it
matter if the public knew that those
two. men had tried and failed r”
“In present difficult circum-
^tances^ I’m afraid that it might
matter a great deal. Some of our
jingoists would be swift to blame
foreigners for the disaster, and their
foreign prototypes would recipro-
cate by whipping up more antago-
nistic feelit^s against us suggesting
that b^use we built in secret we
had an ulterior and probably
treacherous motive. There may be
even an organized outcry against
the completion of number eigliteen
in New Mexico. All is grist to the
prop^nda ifliU when the war gods
jwe sharpening their swords. When
worid-widc hysteria mounts steadily
it is because those unseen forces
manipulating international channels
^ opinion' are utilizing every cir-
^cumstance and craftily exploiting
. to Hie utmost.” He resumed
^iiis restiess pacing on the carpet.
“The world is a powder barrel with
p^ple prancing around it waving
lighted candles. It's taking all
we’ve got to postpone the big bang,
and eventually it may come some-
where else in spite of us. Only
the attention-diverting roar of
rockets on the surface of the Moon
can diange the situation. Arm-
strong was right in that supposition,
though sometimes I suspect him of
being as mad as anyone.” Ceasing
his pacing, he faced her. "Call it
insanity, stupidity, sm obsession, or
plain, ornery pigheadedness— h’s in-

spiring and not without a certain
amount of Ic^c. He is trying to
counter madness with madness, like
fighting fire with fire,”

“That was one of the arguments
Horowitz gave me — who is to say
what is rational and wliat is not ?”
she commented. “Docs the end
justify the means, or tlie means
the end ?”

“Horowitz!” he scoffed. “Al-
ready it has been discovered, that
he was bom in Linz — ^and Linz isn’t
on Mars!” His mustache bristled
as he added, “And we’ve a shrewd
notion of what we’ve yet to dis-
cover— that he’s a nc\ver, craftier,
more inventive version of Hitler,
the self-appointed messiah of a re-
vived Germania.”

She consulted her watch. “The
noon newscast should be on the air-
now. Could we Ifbar it?”

General Gregory flipped the Wall
switch, watched the screen glow to
life. He was a little late, for the
announcer was partway through his
newscast.

. . from Concepcion, bound for
Wellington, radioed that an im-
mense rocket descended from a
clear sky at dawm, at bearings given
at 37 SOS by 80 OW, this being
about three hundred miles south of
the island of Juan Fernandez, better
known as Robinson Crusoe’s Is-
land. The Southern T rader re-
ports that the object swept into a
shallow curve which caused it to
strike the sea at a tangent. Rico-
cheting like a flipped stone, the al-
iped rocket skipped across the sur-
face of the ocean at tremendous

I4t

▲BTOUNDINO BCIBNCE-PICTION

pace ajid eventually disapp^ti^
over the southeast horizon/* Fin-
ishing that item, he staried with:
“An uproar at this moming*s meet-
ing" of the new Pah-Europ^n
League resulted when M. Pierre
Dieudonne, the French — ”

Claire Mandle was standing up,
her hands clasping and undasping.
Stony-faced, Gregory switched off,
turned to the phone. He was on it
some time, puttii^ through five
calls. Finally, he turned to her,
faced her questioning eyes.’

“The Southern Trader^s report
came in only twenty minutes ago.
It should have been..kept off the air.
Somebody blundered — or someone
is being awkward. Anyway, noth-
ing more is known except that the
Chilean Government is investigat-
ing. One of our carriers, the Jef-
ferson, is at Valparaiso. It has
been ordered south to search the
area.”

“Then, you think — ?” i .

He nodded gravely. afraid

that one of them is down. There’s
no point in deluding ourselves with
false hopes, my dear. It’s almost
certain that one of them is down.”
“Which one?” she said. “Oh, if
on^ we knew jvhich one!” Her
look at him was appealing. “And
if only we knew about the other.”
“All in good time.” He patted .
her shoulder with fatherly confi-
dence. “A little waiting, and the
rainbow comes!”

“Can’t we do- anything?”

“No more than we’re doing now.”
He led her toward the door, “Go
out, have a l6ok around the shops,
buy yourself a pretty hat. Forget

ORRADFTTL SANCTUARY

all about this for another
four hours. No amount
ing will make the slightest ' diff^-
ence. As soon as news 'e^^mes
through, I’ll phone you.”

She left, for an hour wahde'red
aimlessly around. Her eyesdoolted
at shop windows without seeing
what was in them. Buy: yourself a
pretty hat — tomorrow pretty haltf
may not -be there to buy.
futile ! Which one was dovm,
teen or twenty ? Who was its pilot ?•'
Where was the other boat, and who
was piloting that? • v.

She couldn’t stand it any IcMiger^
Hastening to her hotel, she q>eiit a
fruitless afternoon waiting by the
news recorder. And all evening.
And half the night. There was
still no news with the dawn radio-
cast, no real news. Heavy rioting
inr Afghanistan, massacres in India,
fighting on the Turco-Syrian border,
a mystery explosion in the naval
port of Fefrol, Spain. But no news
about rockets — nothing.

Is no news good news? Or bad
news? Or even what it purports
to be, namely, news ?

“A stratosphere jet plane is waiti-
tng for you at the skyport, my dear,”
he told her. “It will take you to
New Orleans. You will find some
of your friends already on board.
Take a taxi and get there just as
fast as you can.”

, “But, general, why — ?”

He had cut off. A quick utter-
ance of vvords, amd he’d gone. She
gazed at* the phone, a little dazed

by events, then moved fast. Doing
little more than snatch up her hat
and handbag, she was out of the
hotel and into a taxi in short time.

The three awaiting her in the
plane were Hansen, Miriam and
Bill Norton. The latter helped her
as she entered breathlessly, and the
plane took off immediately.

Hansen grinned at her. ‘‘Quite
a welcoming committee, aren't we ?”

“I don’t know a thing. What
iias happened ?”

“We got in from Yellowknife,
under escort, late last night, had a
long talk with Gregory and the
F.B.I. This morning, they dug us
out, rushed us here. Gregory
thinks that for the next few hours
we’d be safer some place else. Hav-
ing said all there is to say, we’ve
become a liability — so we’re going
with you and Norton.”

“Going where?”

, “To meet Armstrong,” Norton
put in. He had the expansive air
of one well satisfied with life.
“Didn’t General Gregory tell you
that?”

“Then he’s safe? He’s not
hurt ?”

“He’s a bit damaged, and maybe
his dignity is hurt,” said Norton,
offhandedly. “Beautiful women
will find him even more repulsive
than he used to be. Otherwise,
he’s all right.”

“Thank goodness !” she breathed.

Norton raised an eyebrow. “He’s
not such a. bad ape,” he conceded,
weighing her up, “despite that he’s
so big and so stupid.” He expanded
his cTiest. “Gregory is permitting

him to talk to one reporter only —
all others warned off. Armstrong
nominated me. That’s friendship.
He doesn’t forget old friends.”

“No, I suppose not,” she mur-
mured, her mind in a whirl.

“And I hope he continues to re-
member them in the future,” Nor-
ton added, ix)intedly. He eyed her
again. “Can you cook ?”

She was taken aback, “Cook?
Can I cook ?”

“Steak smothered with button -
mushrooms, and stuff like that*”
He licked his Ups.

“Of course.”

“That’s fine,' That’s real fine.”
He patted his stomach. “I see no
reason to withhold my approval.”
Hansen and Miriam swapped
significant glances, and the latter
said to Norton : “That’s mighty
white of you, Roderick.”

“The name is not Roderick,”
Norton reproved, glowering at her.

Claire put in : “Just what has hap-
pened to John? Why are we going
to New Orleans?”

“They’re flying him there,” Nor-
ton told her. “As I’ve got it, he
skidded across half the Pacific
Ocean and thumped into Chile,
wrecking his ship and distorting his
own profile at the same time.
Planes from one of our carriers
found him. We should be in New
Orleans about an hour ahead of
him, and will meet him when he
lands.”

“I see.” Peeking through the
window, she watched the landscape
rolling far below. Her thoughts
were elsewhere.

_ Hansen said : “Well, that’s one

130

ASTOUNDING SCIENCB-UrCTION

llo{^ Maybe Qainn’s aaother,
•Mte place far from the beaten
trad^ and — **

“What's Quinn doing?” Norton
demanded. His eyes were sharp
and curious. “I thought the cops
wanted him. I thought he was on
the run. What’s he up to now?”

“Don’t you know?”

“Would I be asking you if I
did?”

“Then I wont tell you,” Elansen
said, easily.

Leaning .sidewise, Norton scowleji
at him and spoke between set teeth.
“Come on — give ! What’s all this
about Quinn?”

Stud3ring him calculatingly, Mir-
iam baited him with: ‘*What is it
worth? Is it worth a mink?”

Waving outraged hands, Norton

argued with her #h3e Haases
grinned sardonically and Clake cen^
turned to gaze absently throft^ the
window. The argument was s\4U
in full swing and had become slight-
ly acid when the plane touched
down at its destination.

The navy courier arrived ninety
minutes later. With jets spouting
long-columns of mist, it hit the> run-
way, trundled to a stop. Armstrong
w'as first out.

He limped awkwardly down the
ladder, his left arm in a slings his
beefy face crisscrossed with strips
of plaster, a heavy bandage around
his head. His hair stuck out of the
bands^ in a weird fringe of spikes.
His smile was lugubrious and lop-
sided as he met them, and . the

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dreadful sanctuary

ou tliat side of hi^

features.

“This is .what’s left,” he an-
nounced. “Worn but still serX’ice-
able.” . He took Claire’s cool, slen-
der hand in his huge’ paw. “Didn’t
expo^ to find you Ifere, Pixie,
Who iuranged it — Gregory?”

nodded, looking at him and
saying nothing.

Sniffing the air, he gazed around
appreciatively. “Though I' say
it myself, it’s good to be back in
tile madhouse. Let’s go some place
where; we can eat as well as talk.”
Callup a taxi, he helped Claire into
it, cHtnbed after her with one or two
painful grunts.

Seated at a table, with Hansen
and: Miriam listening intently, Claire
watching him slant-eyed, and Nor-
ton, busily scribbling, he said; “I’m
sprt; of on {Kirole until they learn
wh^ Quinn’s got to. If he lias
failed, th^ won’t be able to pincli
me fast 'enough ! I’ve Gregory to
^laplc for these few, hours of free-
dom. and -peace— I'll have George
to diank if I stay free. It .
all depends on him.”

“You did your best,” Claire com-
forted.

“Maybe I didn’t do so bad.
Maybe I stopped George picking
the wrong ship., I got a wobbler.
It ivasn’t quite ready, and I picked
it. That was the point where my
luck ran out I don’t know what was
wrong. It seemed like a couple of
tubes hadn’t been fitted with linings.
Tliey held up for less than a couple
of hours before they burned out.

1 turned into a huge parabola.” He
rubbed one side of hts face, winced

visiWy. ‘’ lliat brought me neii-
busting for the South Pacific with
my heart trying to squeeze itself
between my cars. I guess I could
never have been torched by Sandy-
hair and his gang. The capers I’ve
indulged would have pump^ a clot
ten times around my^ system by
now. I thought I was a goner in
any case.”

“You're reserved for the hang-
man,” Norton assured. “Garry on.”

“I managed to blow her into a
shallow curve just before she
struck. She whacked the sea with
her belly and hopped like a
kangaroo. By heaveiis, she must
have covered about four hundred
miles in gigantic, ten-mile leaps!
In the end, she wallo'ped an island
off the Chilean coast, smiting it so
liard that she slid right up the beach
and dug her nose into the sandhills.
I tried to embed myself in the con-
trol panel. I waited for someone
to hand me a harp, but after a while
some planes came zooming around
and a gang of navy boys broke in
and lugged me out” Picking up
his cup of coffee, he sipped it awk-
wardly but with gusto. “RaJeon
that’s where ray lude came up with
one final spurt. I’m the luckiest
guy on this crazy planet!”

Norton said: “You never did
know the difference l^tween being
lucky and being downright buU-
he^ed! Now what’s this stuff
about Quinn? Where is he?”

“Yes, George,” Armstrong mur-
mured, his tones low, anxious.
“Now that I’ve made a mess of it,
he’s our last bet. If he’s sunk.

ASTOUNDING SCIBNCE-PICTION

we’re all sunk. *.But if he mak^ it,
and liv« to say so, it’ll prove be-
yond all shadow of doubt that this
Martian claptrap is a lot of neo-
Nazi hooey.”

“Prove it ?” Norton looked dis-
satisfied.

“You bet! Look, sonny, if as
these Normans assert, a gang of
Martians have been visiting this
world repeatedly for centuries, you
can accept one certainty— that they
maintain an outpost on the Moon.
There are good technical reasons for
that,, as well as strategic ones. If
Martians are on.^he Moon, they’re
going to button the lip of.. the first
guy who lands there. So if anyone
lands and talks — there aren’t any
Martians ! You couldn’t have proof
more conclusive!” His bothered
gaze wgnt to the great clock on. the
wall, noted that it said four-thirty.
“We ought to have heard of him
by this time. If he’s down, he may
be unidentifiable, or the news of his
Clash has been suppressed, or he’s
busted himself some place far from
anywhere.” His fingers started
tapping nervously on the table. “1
wish we knew, one way or the
other.”

“Perhaps he’s still going,” sug-
gested Claire.

“I like to think so, but it’s not
probable because he ought to have
made it by now. His flight-dura-
tion is such that if he hasn’t reached
there yet, he’ll never get there.”

“Get where?'* yelped .Norton, al- .
most beside himself. “Is this half-
pint Quirni up ia» another rocket?
Where did he obtain the darned
thing? How many rockets are float-

DBEADFUL SANCTUARY

ai^ 'around? .If you took up number
ei|:hteeh and converted it into scrap,
hoyrthc deuce did Quinn — ?”

A big wall-recorder interrupted
hini/ Its huge screen lit up, flick-
ered wildly, cleared, revealed massed
military bands. The recorder’s
matdied loud-speakers blared forth
a rousing air. Automatically, every-
one stood up,- heads erect, shoulders
squared. Armstrong arose beside
Claire, stood with all his weight on
one foot, his hand supporting him
against the table. Norton was erect
as if on parade, a puzzled expres-
' sion on his features. Hansen
looked serious. Miriam was appre-
hensive.

Something special coming.
Massed bands, and the flag under
uniformed escort, and the sounding
of the anthem. Prelude to war.?
The dour warning, the appeal to
'‘unity, the affirmation of aims?
Something very special coming !
The inarching bands faded out of
•the screen as the tune ended with
a martial flourish of trumpets. An
anouncer loomed large. Everyone
sat dowui, nervously, attentively.

The announcer for once had lost
his suavity and sang-froid. There
were i»pers in his liand, and the
hand was shaking slightly but visi-
bly.

“Emergency news bulletin,” he
enunciated. . “Forty-seven minutes,
ago, for the first time in human
history, a voice -spoke to us from
our satellite the Moon ! It was the
voice of G«)ige Vincent Quinn, an
American citizen, and the official
pilot of rocket number nineteen

which took off from a secret start-
ing-point and reach^ its destination
iti the amazing time of thirty-eight
hours, eleven minutes!”

Claire felt the powerful grasp of
Armstrong’s heavy fingers on her
wrist. Her eyes were shining. His
were fixed with* burning intensity
on the screen.

“Quinn’s vessel does not bear
fuel sufficient for a return journey,
•but Washington experts state that
it is now a comparatively simple
matter to send a robot-piloted vessel
which Quinn can land by remote
control and from which he can ob-
tain the necessary supplies. In-
structions have already been issued
that number eighteen, our rocket in
New Mexico, be modified for auto-
matic operation with all possible
sj>eed, -and it is confidently expected
that the vessel will be ready to take
off within seven weeks. M^nwhile,
Pilot Quinn has all the facilities
needed to preserve life for six
months.”

Glancing at his papers, and obvi-
ously agitated by the importance of
the occasion, he continued: “Ama-
teur radio stations, picking up
Quinn’s calls, were first to dissemi-
nate this epoch-making news which
already is electrifying the civilized
world. Messages of congratulation
have started to arrive from foreign
governments and from a host of in-
dividuals. Some of the former were
accompanied by offers of partly-con-
struct^ rockets suitable for swift
conversion to relief vessels. Com-
menting on these offers, Columnist
Henry Coultliard says in his cur-
rent review of affairs, ‘Yesterday,

ASTOUNDING SCIBNCK-PICTION

«e were betog threatened with
nckets by all and sundry. Today,
we’re being offered them as gifts,
freely, willingly, by people quick to
realize that ?he world has changed
beyond recognition in a few tremen-
dous minutes. The scientific worth
•f Pilot Quinn’s triumphant Moon-
trip is as nothing to the psychologi-
cal value thereof. The trumpet of
peace has been sounded effectively —
in a distant and lonely crater !’ ”
Armstrong said, softly, reverent-
ly : “Good boy ! I’m glad he made
it. It was meant for him,, and not
for a ham like me. It was George’s
job right from the start.”

“Further information will be
broadcast as it comes through, but”
— the announcer made a dramatic
gesture— “before we go on to the

next item we bring yoe the
of Pilot Quinn speaking from
Moon !” . '

The screen blanked. The
speakers coughed, emitted scratch-
ing noises, spoke harshly through a
haze of static.

- . am getting your strength

five . middle of Copernicus ...
undamaged. Will blow flare port
side . . . half an hour’s time.’* . ; A
long, noisy pause, followed bjr,
“Glad he’s safe. Tell him . .

bigger they come the harder . .
fall.”

The distorted voice and tlie static
cut off abruptly. The announcer
came back. “The last part was a
reference to John J. Armstrong,
official pilot of Quinn's companion
rocket number twenty which made

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153

;f breed landi% off the coast of
’ South America. Armstrong, recent-
ly listed as a public enemy, is now
revealed as having been engaged on
highly Gonfidenttal work under com-
mand of General Gregory, and the
F.B.I. has amiomiced that all calls
,for him have been withdrawn.”
Switching papers, he went on,
“Working in concert, police and
armed forces of several countries
are raiding the haunts of an inter-
national band, of saboteurs known
as - the Norman Club who were
fanatically opposed to rocketry and
it is reported that — ”

“Finish!” remarked Anfistrong,
not listening any further. “They’ll
eatch some, not others, but the es-
capees will be impotent. Time has
passed them by.” He massaged his
jowls thoughtfully. “I hope they
•don’it overlook any remnants of
Sandy-hair’s mob, either. That
crowd represented the inevitable
^hisfti which always occurs in a
cult. Maybe they didn’t like Horo-
witz. Or .maybe he overdid it with
Ijis.psycbotron, convincing them that
they were indeed mad Martians.
Or more likely they had the
monopoly of this newfangled coagu-
lator, thought it made them the elite
of the elite, fell out when they re-
fused to hand over its secret to the
rank and file.” He sighed remi-
niscently. “History repeats itself.
Horowitz had his enemies on his
own territory^ — -just like Hitler.
And like Hitler, he’s come to the
end of the trail.”

Hansen jerked a disparaging

thumb toward the screen on which
the announcer was still gabbling.
“Wasn’t he sweet? He cleared
your character absolut^y — but said
nothing of mine.”

“Nor mine,” supported Miriam.
She mooned at her boss. “I’ve never
been out of trouble since* I entered
your employ. Some day. I'll get
used to it, I guess.-”

Grinning with the unplastercd
side of his face, Armstrong said to
Claire: “Do you dance?”

“You can’t. Not with that leg,”
she pointed out.

“As the Man in the Moon said,
the harder they fall. I’ve tumbled
for keeps.” Impudently, he ate her
wth' his eyes.

She pinked a little.

“My scoop!” moaned Norton,
viewing them with disgust. “My
scoop gets sholf to blazes — and you
two have to sit and coo !” He
wiped his lips with a handkerchief,
making an insulting ceremony of it.
“Pfah! you make me sick!”

Leaning across the tafle, Arm-
strong jibed: “Square roots, eh?”
“All right, all. right — take her.”
Norton waved an airy, disinterested
hand. “I can find my own.” His
sour stare shifted to Miriam, became
speculative. “Do vou dance, Fair
One?”

Linking an arm through Han-
sen’s, she thinned her lips, regarded
him with distaste. “I read the
papers— -and sometimes I wonder.”
“Wonder what?” Norton invited.
Miriam said, nastily: “How you
*know you’re sane.”

THE END

15t

ASTOUNr>ING SCIENCE-.PICTION

BRASS TAGKS

s got an interesting question
there — but the effect of cheap
automobiles was comparable.

Dear Mr. Campbell:

Just for the sake of speculation-
I wonder if any of your writers
have thought about a story b^sed
on the social effect of the so-called
“Hopti-copter” ? According to re-
ports they are to be mass produced
in the very oear future. ' If a lot
of people get to flying around as-
free-as-the-birds, what might it do
to the atmosphere of. the country in
so far as the people are concerned ?
Will it make people more indepen-
dent or will it make them indolent
and easy prey for totalitarian propa-
gandist? The theme has possibili-
ties has it not?

Now few Ast. SCIENCE FIC-
TION;

1. During 1947 you gave us
the best covers in the maga-
zine’s history.

2. During 4947 the mechanical
form of the magazine was the
best in .its history.

3. During 1947 the ititerior art
work was equal to and sonw-
times better than any previous
work.

4. During 1947 the averse,
intellectual and literary level of
the stories was higher than ever
before.

Studies at the University of Ore-
gon are my excuse for not com-
menting on the stories in detail
except to say that I should like to
see you publish something like Van
Vogt’s “Ship of Darkness” and his
“The Cataaaa” in S.F. once in a
while. Your readers surely must be
brilliant enough to take it. '

— Rosco E. Wright, Rt. 2 Box 264
Springfield, Oregon.

Toward the end of the war, as much
as ten megawatts was being, gen-
erated on pulses!

Dear Campbell :

I was very interested in J. J.
Coupling’s article on the magnetron,
the more so because Professor
Randall — who with Dr. Boot in-

BRASS TACKS

vented the cavity magnetron — is my
physi^)rofessor here at Kings Col-
lege. in the lab we have a fine
selection of maggies with outputs
up to 2Y2 megawatts. (I can’t
imagine any terrestrial application
for the last one!)

There was nothing chancey or
particularly spectacular about the
evolution of the magnetron in Pro-
fessor Oliphant’s microwave^ group
at Birmingham University — just the
usual development once the original
ideas had been worked out. Cer-
tainly no one stuck a cathode in a
revolver chamber to see what hap-
pened. But I know how that story
arose : a revolver barrel was used
as 'a jig to make one maggie, as it
happened to come out about the
right size.

Oddly enough, the Russians were
tke first people to make cavity mag-
netrons, years before we did.
There’s a paper about it in the Proc.
I.R.E. in the early 1940s. Some of
the designs were strikingly like the
, final Allied ones. But they were
low-powered, c.w. jobs as far as I
know and I don’t think the Russians
realized just what they’d got.—
Arthur C. Clarke, Kings College,
University Of London, Strand,
London, W.C.I., England.

Null- A — and how it got that way.

Dear Mr. Campbell ;

r would like to answer the letter
headed “Non-Sanity of the Non-
Aristotelian System^" in the Brass
Tacks ^ection of April Science Fic-

ttsi

tion, written by one Willis E.
McNelly. Mr. McNelly questions
the basic premises of non-Aristo-
telianism — which is all right — but,
apparently, he has a mistaken idea
as to just what those basic premises
are supposed to be. Mr. McNelly
mentions that “contemporary math
and physics is non-Euclidian and
non-Newtonian” but “can we then
assume that contemporary thinking
or thought processes should neces-
sarily be non-Aristotelian,” He has
implied that this is the “logic”-slep
which convinced Korzybski that* a
formulation of a non-Aristotelian
system was necessary. .-That is in-
accurate.

Alfred Korzybski, during the
first world war, began to wonder
at the tremendous gap between
the successes of technology and
the more human sciences, and at
the psychological conditions of the
world, in general. Bridges, air-
planes, telescopes, and radios were
being constantly improved upon and
put into extended service; the sci-
ences of physics, chemistry, as-
tronomy, et cetera, were making
tremendous strides forward, but
human, cultural institutions were
constantly being demolished in the
faces of depression, booms, and
wars; the general level of sanity
was dropping rapidly. Korzybski
decided that there must be some
radical differences between the
methods employed by the mathe-
maticians, scientists, et cetera — as
scientists . . . et cetera — and those
employed in our personal and na-
tional lives. Being familiar with
those methods employed by the

ASTOUNDING SC 1 K N C E -FI CTIO N

former — be wks an engineer and
mathematician — he decided to ac-
quaint himself with the evaluational
methods used in our private and
national lives ; he studied psychiatry.
In other words, having already
studied the most successful known
methods he was studying those em-
ployed by the most unsuccessful —
from an adjustment viewpoint —
people; those inside our institutions
for the ‘‘insane”. He discovered
that the most outstanding factor in
those unaiccessful methods was a
habit, or trait, which he labeled
“identification” — the unconscious
identifying of words with objects.
Now, every little child ^‘knows’*
that the word “chair” is not the
object to which it is applied, the
one you sit down upon, and that
the word “pain” isn’t that which

you feel when somepne jabs you kd
the seat 'with a but OMd
adults included, continue to. act
think as if they were. (Warmng:
These statements are oversimpli-
fied.)

As Korzybski ^d — page Ixiv,
preface, 1st edition, “Science and
Sanity” — : “Identification is found
in all known primitive peoples; in
all known forms of ‘mental* ; ills;
and in the great majority of per-
sonal, national, and international
maladjustments. It is important,
therefore, to eliminate such a harm-
ful factor from our prevailing
systems.”

My point on the foregoing, then,
is this: Korzybski formulated a

system of sanity, based on the denial
of identification, and then applied
the label “non- Aristotelian” to»it;

BRASS TACKS

he didn’t decide to create a so-called
"nop-Aristotelian” system just to
be contrary — he did not reverse the
order of abstractions.

For Reader McNelly’s informa-
tion, the basic premiss of A arc two
in number and negative in char-
acter:

1) The word is not the object to
which it is applied; and

2) There is no such thing as an
object in absolute isolation from
all other objects.

The whole edifice of A “logic”,
which is based mostly on formu-
lations concerning structure and
relationship arose from the second
premise.

If anyone is to disprove these
■two statements, he must show their
falsity by demonstrating that the
word is that to which it is applied
and that there are objects in abso-
lute isolation from all other objects.
I’m fairly confident that none will
do it.

It is rather amazing the way your
various writers have interpreted A
and general semantics. Van Vogt
interprets it, rather admirably, in
the light of his favorite “Toward
tlfe Superman” theme (World of
A) ; Heinlein presents it as the
science of propaganda’ (If This
Goes On) the Kuttners speak,
rather glibly of “semantic block-
ages” (The Piper’s Son) and men-
tion that Korzybski’s teachings are
“only commonsense” (Fury!) ;
Williamson implies that it is “a fad”
(With Folded Hands — ) ; Grendon
speaks of it in connection with
mathematical logic (The Figure) ;
and William Bade, an antireligion-

ist, is apparently using it as a sub-
stitute for religion (New Bodies
For Old). As Mr. McNelly says,
it is rapidly becoming stock in trade.

W’liat you need, Mr. Campbell,
are one or two competent articles
on the subject.-wArthur Cox, 1203
Ingraham Street, I^os Angeles 14,
California.

Yes, we are now about a twenty
minute ride outside the city, in
Elizabeth, New Jersey. Visitors
still welcome though!

Dear Mr. Campbell:

£ see that it pays to subscribe.
Still a full week to go before the
April issue of Astounding hits the
newsstands, but mine came bright
and early this morning. One of the
first changes I see is the advertising
that will later on enter the magazine.
If it helps balance the books and
at the same time give the SF bugs
some information on where to get
books, back numbers, et cetera. Pm
game to see a few hundred words
of the poorer works get cut out.

.Another item of note is that ASF
seems to have taken over offices in
New Jersey. Must remember same
come December 31st and the renew-
ing of subscription. Another move
I’d like to see is tliat of Mr. Bone-
stell as a permanent artist sharing
the spotlight with Rogers and Ale-
jandro, especially with the latter.

Well, here we go at rating the
issue :

AN LAB:

1, “He Walked Around, the
Horses.” Piper. Originality

ISO

ASTOUNDING RCIBNCR-PICTION

plus, but the matter-of-fact
presentation detracted.

2. . . And S^rching Mind”
(II) Williamson. Serial is de-
veloping momentum as it pro-
gresses. The conclusion should

. be worth while waiting .for.

3. “Ex Machina.” Padgett. Finally
connected Galloway (story no'. 1.)
and Gallegher. (all other stories)
but same old sil^uatioh'.

4. “The House Dutiful.” Tenn. He
tried hard, but the tl^eme of
animated 'houses Or radios
(Twonkey, “Logic Named Joe”)
doesn’t resonate with Hie.

5. “New Wings.” Chandler. Now
it’s LiH that does it. I still think
that Homo sapiens himself and
not some chemical or meson will

be the destroyer or savior
our planet.

COVER, ART;

Wonderful. Mr. Bonestell and:Mr.
Alejandro should alternate^
cover artists, each working on his
specialty. Inside, it seems as if
Pat Davis is developing into a
better than average artist, with
something resembling Sehnet^oan
in the offing. Cartier, of co»rj»,
needs no commenting on,'“'SM
you are keeping him in'-IShi,
against a possible renaissancfemf
Unknoum. P. 104, Brass Tatdts
gives a hopeful hint.

ARTICLE:

Richardson’s articles are al’'W.ys
welcome. Looking forward ...to
one on S Doradus, if muctL:mar

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tcriai can be gathered on that
feeble ,spark.

In conclusion, I notice on P. 110
a slip up on your part. J. William-
son’s second installment is this
month, not next month. But I hope
you give us Van Vogt’s opus first
before L. R. Hubbard’s. J f VV can
spring a sequel on his lizwals and
©"n his “Recruiting Station,”, he
' should be able to climb up to the
top again, after the “Child of the
-Ciods” toboggan. “Scuttlebutt” says,'
he has worked out something on
tlie latter theme (Masters of Time to
quote the flyleaf on the binder of
'■‘Book of Ptath” by Fanta.sy Prcs.s).
Sequels on “A” and “Sian” might
fill out otherwise incomplete jjlots,
and a second Asylum would make
it all perfect. Weel, that’s my bit
for the month, more like a mduth-
full. — William E. Dorion, 180
Riverside Drive, New York 24,
New York.

So many theories do show negative
correlation to relevant data!

Dear Mr. Campbell:

Of course the Bugstrom Factor
— known to engineers, college stu-
dents, and other infidels as the
“Bugger Factor,” “Finagle’s Con-
stant,” et cetera — is a variable. This
factor was designed by Professor
Perennial V. Bugstrom of the Tech-
nische Hochschule in Oslo to cor-
rect the erroneous values given by
Reisringer functions. These func-
tions are of the general form :

R= Ae-^

where X is the independent variable,
A is a constant determined from
boundary conditions, and K is the
“Bugstrom Factor.” Reisringer
functions, first formulated by the
noted statistician, Rudolf Reis-
ringer, of the Prinz Eugen Insti-
tute in Hamburg, are characterized
by a negative correlation with what-
ever data they are supposed to fit.
This negative correlation obviously'
led to all manner of contradictions
in experimental physics, and several
solutions were empirically devised.
The most notable of these was tliat
of Finagle in 1871 and has correctly
been given by Mr. Schaumburger in
liis letter printed in the April
Astounding. However, in 1930,
shortly after De Broglie’s wave
theory of matter. Professor Bug-
.strom devised this factor using many
of the assumptions w’hich arc now
second nature to theoretical physi-
cists. The recent psychokinetic re-
searches of Professor Rhine at
Duke have substantiated Bugstrom’s
work beyond all possible doubt.
Much other theoretical work in the
literature shows similar tendencies.

No doubt Finagle’s Constant will
lit a given set of data sufficiently
for the purposes of engineers, ap-
plied scientists, and the other “lesser
breeds without the law” mentioned
above', but for the accuracy required
by theoreticians it is painfully* in-
accurate . . . Sometimes deviating as
much as one per cent from the data.
Bugstrom’s Factor, however, will fit
any set of data to a Reisringer func-
tion e.racily—i.^. : without deviation.
— Janies' H. Ray, ■ 223 ■ Congress
Street, Brooklyn 2, New ^"ork. ,

ASTOUNDING ■SCIE.XOK-FtCTION

193

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